


She Can Lead You To Love (Take You or Leave You)

by Tito11



Series: Always A Woman to Me [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, F/M, Implied Underage, threat of violence against children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tito11/pseuds/Tito11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve’s life is good. He’s home, safe and alive. He’s got a well-paying job for Stark Industries, a company that he respects. He’s even started making time with the factory's resident "Rosie the Riveter," a girl he knows only as Toni. And if he sometimes misses the war, well, he’s sure he’ll get over that in time, once he really settles in. So, right; life is good. Now if only he could stop dreaming about about Annie, the French prostitute who was his first love, he's sure things would be perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I have been absolutely writer's blocked for over a week and it's killing me. This is the fic that brought me back from the edge, so I'm going to put it up, even though it's not an update. It's almost completely finished, so if everything goes according to plan, I'll be updating every day or so for the next few days until it's all up.
> 
> title from "Always a Woman to Me" by Billy Joel

It’s harder than Steve anticipated, coming home from war. He’s not sure what he expected, to be honest. Maybe celebratory parades or something. And to be fair, there are many of those in the first few weeks, and during those times, Steve feels an almost unbearable amount of pride: pride for his country for coming through this, pride for his boys for making it home. In the end, though, it’s all formalities and showmanship. It isn’t personal, except for what he makes of it. And once all the parades and celebrations are over, Steve finds himself alone, and not the same man he’d been before the war.

He’s not totally alone, of course. He still meets with his men, the ones who live close by. And there’s Bucky, of course, who sleeps in the next room over. Steve could never forget Bucky, would never take for granted his presence in Steve’s life, especially after how close Steve came to losing him on the battlefield. Steve will never forget those terrible, terrible minutes when he’d thought the man was dead, before the bastard opened his eyes, grinned crookedly up at Steve through a mouthful of blood and said, “That was a close one, huh?” Steve had never been more grateful than he was that day to receive the order to pull his men off the line.

The fact remains, though, that even if he’s not alone, he’s still not the man he was before he went off to war. He looks the same on the outside, which is more than some soldiers can say, those with injuries that can’t be hidden. On the inside, though, he’s different: more jaded, maybe, or maybe it’s just that he’s seen things he can’t unsee, no matter how hard he tries. The nightmares, they don’t come often, but when they do happen, he swears sometimes it’s worse than actually living through the war the first time.

During the day, though, he’s mostly alright. He tries not to think about the men he lost, the friends he lost. It’s not always easy, especially when Bucky does something ridiculous or catty that makes Steve think of the camaraderie the unit shared. Steve hadn’t been as much a part of that as he would have liked toward the end of the war, after he’d been promoted to captain and made official commander of his commando group, but he’d understood even then that it was more important to keep his men alive and together than to be one of them. He’d had a duty, is the thing. 

And who knows, maybe that’s what he’s missing now: a duty, a purpose. Steve got a job as soon as he got back, at the Stark Industries factory to be exact. It’s a good company and Steve’s proud to work for an employer who actively sought out returning veterans to fill their open job slots. SI does good work and Steve knows a decent percentage of weapons used to win the war came from one of the company’s many plants around the country. On top of that, too, is the fact that the current CEO, named so after old Mr. Stark died a year or so ago, is a veteran himself. Steve’s seen the man in the newsreels, and Mr. Hogan looks like a good-natured, amiable fellow, who holds himself upright, despite the limp from the war injury that sent him home before the end of the fighting. Steve knows there was some scandal when Howard Stark left the company to his daughter Antonia, not only because she’s a woman, but also because of her scandalous past exploits. With Mr. Hogan running the company, though, Steve can’t name a single man who wouldn’t work for the company just because a woman owns most of the shares. Not that it matters to Steve, really, who owns the company; he does his job and comes home and that’s just how it is now, in these days after the war.

 

It takes Steve almost six months to really settle into his job at Stark Industries. He’s done factory work before, of course, before the war when his paintings just refused to sell. And it’s not that this job is especially difficult. If anything, it might be a little too dull. Steve hates to admit he misses the war, but it’s true he developed a taste for adventure during his time in combat. Not that he would ever trade peacetime for a little bit more excitement in his day, but if there was a way to compromise, he’d snatch it up in a minute.

As it is, he arrives at the factory every day at six-fifty sharp. He drops his lunch pail off at his cubby and trades in his street coat for a protective overcoat. He says hello to the boss’s secretary as he passes and very carefully does not stare at the way her dress hugs her body; she’s a firecracker, that one, but Steve’s always sure to give her the respect she deserves, unlike some of the dogs in this plant. By the time the whistle blows for the shift change, Steve is at his station, welding torch on and ready to go.

The job itself isn’t hard, just welding the same spots on the same type of weapon then passing it down the line. He doesn’t get to stand next to Bucky, but they’re near enough to one another for Steve to be able to catch sight of him occasionally. They can’t make eye-contact because of their protective faceplates, but just being able to stand in the room is enough to reassure Steve. 

They eat lunch together, too, of course, once the lunch bell rings at eleven. More than that, their leftover army pay, the stuff they hadn’t needed to spend any of while they were tramping all over Europe, lets them eat better than they ever have as civilians. Most of the men had had wives or families to send money back to, but Steve and Bucky have both been orphans for years and neither of them is married, so they’ve got money to spare these days. Steve’s not taking it for granted, not wasting it, because he knows as well as everyone who starved through the thirties how easily money can disappear. The economy seems to be stable these days, though, and Steve’s job is steady, which means that between them they can splurge on meat, honest-to-god meat at least three times a week. Neither of them are excellent cooks, exactly, but they manage. Bucky always makes wistful faces at the other men in the lunchroom who have complicated meals home-cooked by their wives, but Steve’s not worried. He may be awkward around women now, but one day, he’s sure he’ll find a woman who completes him. After all, it’s happened to him once before, so it can happen again.

 

After the bell rings for second shift to take over and first shift’s end of day, Steve and Bucky make their way home. It’s not far, just about a twenty-minute walk, which is nothing compared to the miles and miles they’d marched in full gear while in Europe. Some nights, Bucky likes to go out to the dance halls, hoping to meet girls. He sometimes convinces Steve to come along, but Steve prefers to stay in and work on his paintings. Unlike before the war, he can actually afford the good kind of paint now, the kind that can let him make the type of art he craves. He’s out of practice, but the more he tries, the better it gets. Using his G.I. money to go to art school is still an option, but he really wants to be sure before he makes a decision in that regard. He’s always been a city boy, so buying a house in the suburbs probably isn’t something he wants, but if he ever gets married, who knows how he’ll feel about the matter. He wants to keep his options open, at least for now. And in the closer future, Steve’s even got high hopes that he might get his work into a gallery. 

So yeah, Steve’s life is good. He’s home, safe and alive. He’s got a well-paying job for a company that he respects. He’s got an apartment with his best buddy, the classiest place either of them has ever lived. He’s even got the opportunity to go back to art school someday, if that’s what he chooses. And if he sometimes misses the war, well, he’s sure he’ll get over that in time, once he really settles in. So, right; life is good. Now if only he could stop dreaming about her, about Annie, his first love, things would be perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually, this chapter is tiny, so I figure it deserves to get double-teamed with the first bit. The next update will be completely a flashback, so there's that :)

“Check out Rosie over there.” One of the guys nudges Steve as he’s taking off his mask. Ordinarily when the lunch whistle rings everyone in the room streams out at once, hurrying to fit in a cigarette and a bite to eat before the whistle rings again for them to resume working. Today, though, all the men are clustering together on the factory floor, watching a welder at the far end of the line, one who hasn’t stopped for lunch. This particular welder is wearing men’s slacks and suspenders, but no protective overcoat or facemask. The bandana and shaded goggles do little to hide the fact that the face belongs to a woman. Her female curves aren’t visible through her clothes, but Steve imagines they’re very lovely, would have to be with a face like that.

…And there he goes, disrespecting a woman he doesn’t even know. He shakes himself and turns away, goes to grab Bucky by the ear and drag him into the lunchroom and away from the woman worker. He’s going to concentrate on his lunch. It’s meat pies today and not one of Steve’s best efforts. Bucky never cooks, which makes Steve very solidly the woman in their friendship, but he doesn’t mind it much. He’d mind even less if he had any talent for cooking, but everything’s edible at least, so that’s something.

“You know,” Bucky says, poking at his meat pie. “I bet if we brought that Rosie home with us, she’d be able to cook us something better than this crap. And who knows, maybe she’d be willing to stay the night, if you know what I mean.” 

Steve does know what he means, but that’s not much of a comfort, to be honest. It’s not that Steve doesn’t think of women like that. He does; he’s no saint, after all. He’s never been the type of man to think women just belong barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t think sexually about them, especially the attractive ones. Ever since Annie, though, Steve’s been trying very hard to be respectful. She wasn’t a feminist, his Annie, and she had certainly had no qualms about using her feminine wiles against him, but if there was anything Steve learned during his time with her it was that women can be just as tough, just as brave, just as cunning as men, sometimes moreso.

“Don’t call her that,” Steve says. “She’s not even a riveter.”

Bucky shrugs. “Welder, riveter, doesn’t matter to me either way. The point is, she’s the only dame in this factory. You think she’s looking for a man?”

“Are you that desperate that you have to find girls at work?” Steve teases. Back before his growth spurt, right before the war, it used to bother him that all of the girls preferred Bucky. Now, though, they’re pretty evenly matched, to Steve’s mind. Physically, at least; social interactions with women still leave Steve a little tongue-tied, giving Bucky the definite upper hand. Not that Steve’s looking for a girl, not really. He doesn’t want to be alone forever, certainly, but he knows that when the time is right, he’ll find the right girl. 

“Not as desperate as you,” Bucky counters. “Seriously, Steve, you should ask this girl out before someone else does.”

“She wouldn’t be interested,” Steve says, sure of it. “Besides, it’s a little bit too crass for my tastes, trying to pick up a dame while she’s on the job.”

That’s the truth, but not all of it, and Bucky sees through him at once. “This is about Annie, isn’t it?” he accuses. “This is because you’re still not over her. Steve, you’ve got to move on, man! It was over a year ago and it was just a fling. Hell, she was a prostitute! She was using you, everyone could see it. I bet now that the war’s over there’s hundreds of girls on the streets of Paris again.”

It’s nothing he hasn’t said before. Steve used to get mad, at first, but he knows by now that Bucky’s just trying to look out for him. Steve doesn’t believe it, though, what they say about Annie. She may have been a prostitute, but she was a good woman and she really cared for him, just like he did for her. They may have only known each other less than a month, but Steve knows it was real. It was more than real; it was love.

“It wasn’t like that,” he says. He’s suddenly not hungry anymore and shoves what’s left of his meat pie over at Bucky. “I’ll be back,” he tells his friend, and heads outside to bum a smoke and catch the breeze.


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky had been the first to notice them, actually. Steve’s group of commandos had been patrolling the area surrounding their fortified position ten miles outside Paris, securing the area and awaiting further orders. Steve had been a first lieutenant then, only in charge of the squad because their more experienced commander had been killed in Normandy. He’d proven himself since then, though; his little squad had been behind the lines since before D-Day and were practically experts at surviving in Nazi-occupied territory. It was D-Day + 62 and twelve days before the Battle for Paris, not that any of them knew that yet.

“Would you take a look at that!” Bucky said from his vantage point halfway up a tree.

“What do you see, Sergeant?” Steve asked, not glancing up from his map. He was sure that if it was urgent, Bucky would have specified. 

“Two girls,” Bucky said. Steve could hear the smirk in his voice. “Showgirls, from the looks of it. And boy, are they dressed for the show.”

“Showgirls?” Steve asked, looking up at last. “In the middle of the woods?”

“Should I radio it in, Lieutenant?” Morita asked, making to grab for his radio.

Steve waved him off. “Let’s see what they have to say for themselves first, before we raise any alarms. Where’s Gabe?”

By the time the girls were brought in under the study gun of Dum Dum, Steve had managed to locate Gabe to translate. They were French, as Steve suspected, and they were, in fact, showgirls. Or that was their claim, anyway. Judging from the looks of them, Steve would guess they were closer to prostitutes than showgirls. They looked classy, though, both of them dolled up but dressed down. Their dresses were high and thin, but they wore it well. 

They were sisters, they said, the blonde named Annie and the redhead named Nell. They were from Paris and had managed to slip out of the city. They’d braved the danger, hoping to escape what they feared would be an uprising. Now, though, they were lost and scared.

“What should I tell them, Lieutenant?” Gabe asked after he’d reported all this. “Should we call this in to HQ?”

Steve considered. Strictly speaking, they were on radio silence, on their own in the forest until they were called upon to help liberate Paris. That meant that they should try to deal with this problem on their own. On the other hand, though, he wasn’t sure that they could do anything for these women themselves, other than give them some food and maybe directions to wherever they wanted to go.

Apparently, though, they both spoke English, as Steve found out when the blonde girl stepped forward then and said, “We would like to stay here for a while, if it would please you.” Her accent was a little rough, but Steve could understand her perfectly.

“My men are off limits,” Steve clarified. The men around him close enough to hear gave a groan of disappointment, but Steve didn’t approve of camp followers. They were disruptive and caused fights. If any of these men could legitimately romance these women into their beds, that would be one thing, but Steve wasn’t going to make it easy for them.

“And what about you?” the girl, Annie, asked. “It can be lonely at the top, no?”

“I’m fine,” Steve assured her. “Dugan,” he called, looking around for the man. “Find these girls some food and something warmer to wear.”

“Aye aye,” Dum Dum said and beckoned to them. 

And that was it. The girls became a fixture in his camp for the next twelve days as they held their position and waited for the summons to march toward Paris. They weren’t as disruptive as Steve had feared, though if his squad had been a more traditional, more ordered group if might have been different. As it was, their only job at the moment was to stay put, which meant there was nothing for the girls to even interrupt. 

The men learned quickly that Nell was deadly with her fingernails and never smiled, while Annie was all winks and lascivious grins. If you wanted someone to show you what was what with a needle and thread, you went to Nell, but if you wanted to hear a really dirty joke, Annie was your girl. Surprisingly, Annie was also pretty handy in fixing the radio after the one time Morita dropped the thing down a tree while trying to boost the signal. Neither of the girls was shy about showing a shoulder or a thigh if one was requested, but both of them stuck to Steve’s rules about not engaging in sexual activities with his men. At night, however, as Steve and the men sat around the fire, cooking rations and talking bullshit, both of the girls always put on a show. The words of their little ditties were always in French, but even the men like Steve, the ones who could only speak English, could appreciate the rhythm of their bodies, the teasing flashes of skin.

“That was impressive,” Steve told Annie one night as she sat down next to him after the show, panting a little and grabbing for the canteen she and her sister were sharing. “Your, uh, your skin is nice.” He cursed himself as soon as he’d said it. Her skin is nice, gosh, what a terrible compliment! 

Annie just smiled at him, though. “I’m glad to hear you think so,” she said. “I’ve always liked it.”

“You speak English very well,” Steve said, trying for a more neutral compliment, one that wasn’t about her high cheekbones or the swell of her breasts peeking out of her too-tight dress.

“Thank you,” she said. She glanced away for a moment toward her sister and received what Steve assumed was a reassuring nod. When she looked back at Steve, it was up through her eyelashes. “I learned when I was little. There were many Americans in Paris after the war, some willing to teach a little girl another language.”

Steve supposed that made sense. He tried to think of another, related question, wanting to keep her talking, but the coy way she was looking at him made him nervous, as did the way she kept scooting slowly toward him. 

“D-didn’t you go to school?” he managed at last.

“Oh, yes,” she said, not looking away from his eyes. “But only until I was twelve. After that I knew I wanted to be around the men.”

“You’ve been with many?” Steve asked. It was an unwise question, he knew, and he didn’t especially want to know the answer. Her closeness was going to his head, though, her closeness and her beauty. Her brown eyes looked so soft in the firelight and lips so red.

“Very many,” she whispered. “And with you, if you want.”

“I- I don’t-” Steve looked around him quickly, trying to catch someone’s eye, hoping someone would help him out of this situation before he did something he’d regret. He wasn’t going to be able to say no to her on his own, not with how close she was sitting, not with the promise in her eyes. No one was watching them, though, no one but Nell, and she quickly turned her head to avoid meeting Steve’s eyes. 

“Please,” Annie said, so quiet Steve could barely hear her. “I want this.”

“Okay,” Steve breathed.

Annie stood quickly and grabbed his hand. There were catcalls as she led him away to the tent he usually shared with Bucky, but she ignored them and Steve followed her lead. He’d never done this before, never had the chance. He’d been so scrawny until just a few months before the war, never able to catch a girl’s eye.

When they were alone in the dark of the tent, Steve’s nervousness increased, but Annie made it so easy for him. She undressed them both and got them horizontal without too much fuss, at which point Steve’s instincts took over and he reached out to cup her breasts. Her skin was a gorgeous olive color, even under her clothes, and Steve could picture her so easily, sunbathing naked on the French coast before the war.

“Let me show you how to please a woman,” she whispered against his lips.

“Yes,” Steve agreed and she kissed him.

It was soft at first, but heated quickly. Annie nipped at his bottom lip, sucked his tongue into her mouth, devoured him. It took a few minutes of wading through his awkwardness, but Steve had always been a quick learner and was soon giving back as good as he got. She moaned for him when he readjusted his hands on her breasts and he experimented after that, touching every part of her he could reach: shoulders, neck, back. She liked it when he scratched her, loved it when he pinched her nipples. 

When Steve’s hand wandered down her stomach almost of its own accord, she broke away long enough to say, “Fingers first,” before going back to the kissing. It was nerve-wracking, that first tentative touch between her thighs. She was unfamiliar and wet and it took Steve a good bit of fumbling before he found the spot he wanted. He was slow at first, careful, one finger at a time. He was surprised by how tight a fit that first finger was, but Annie opened up for him, letting him in. Her breath caught when he moved his finger along the inside of her and she pulled away to pant wetly against his shoulder.

“Another,” she said, and he added another finger. It was an even tighter fit than just one alone and he just wasn’t sure how anything larger was going to fit inside of her. He trusted her, though, trusted she wouldn’t let him hurt her, and began to work his fingers in and out. She loosened around him incrementally until he could add a third finger and work the three of them in and out of her.

At last, she said, “I’m ready.” That was Steve’s cue and he only fumbled a very little bit before getting himself into the right position. The push in was tight, almost unbearable, but the wetness of her eased the way. It was tighter inside her than anything he’d ever felt before and he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting a few times without even giving her a chance to adjust. Annie didn’t seem to mind, though, just arched up into his thrusts, let him have his way with her.

After a few minutes, though, in which Steve damn near lost his mind from the feel of her, Annie brought her hand up to his shoulders to still him. “Let me show you the secret,” she said. She took his hand and dragging it down to feel where she was stretched around him, then up, just above that, where there was a fold he had only brushed past before. She gasped when he touched her there, clenched around him when he pinched. She liked it hard, he knew from before, so that’s how he gave it to her. He pinched and he rubbed and he thrust into her body, letting her take him. She moaned and cried out and Steve kissed her. He lost himself in her and wasn’t sorry, not one bit.

 

After that night, Steve got a lot of crap from his men, all of them ragging on him for breaking his own rules about sleeping with the girls. They all managed to keep it in their pants, though, and Annie became known pretty quickly as the Lieutenant’s girl. She still danced and flirted, still told her dirty jokes, but she smiled when she heard the nickname and only ever came to Steve when the sun went down. Bucky was slightly disgruntled about losing his half of the officer’s tent, but decided that since he was a non-com anyway, he might as well bunk down with the men.

For Steve, it wasn’t all just sex with Annie, either. Maybe because she was the first girl he’d ever had in his bed, Steve felt able to open up to her in a way he’d never been able to with women before. He still got tongue-tied when she blinked slowly up at him, but when they were lying naked in the dark, sharing body heat, he could tell her things he’d never even imagined himself saying out loud, things like how scared he was sometimes, how hard it was being in charge of keeping all of these men alive, how much he missed his mother. She told him secrets in return, how her whole life felt like a show, how she hated that a woman couldn’t just enjoy sex without automatically being labeled a prostitute or causing a scandal.

The night she told Steve she loved him while he was inside her was the hardest he’d ever come in his life. He knew the men outside the tent must have heard them, but it was worth it, because he loved her, too, more than he’d ever imagined loving another person. It was perfect, what they had together.

Of course, the next morning they were called upon to march to Paris. It was a frantic battle from the first day they arrived and the fighting lasted for days. He’d tried to convince the girls to stay behind, knew it was going to be like that, but they wouldn’t hear of it, were too attached to the group by this point to let them go alone. They returned to Paris amidst the fighting that they had been trying to avoid in the first place and that was the last time Steve saw Annie, shot in the chest by a German sniper and dragged frantically away by her sister.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short update

“Look,” Bucky says as they’re walking home from work that day. “I’m sorry about what I said at lunch. You know I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. He doesn’t blame Bucky, isn’t even really angry. He wishes things would have turned out differently, but that’s hardly his friend’s fault.

“I meant it when I said you should talk to that welder, though,” Bucky continues doggedly. “No matter what you may have had with Annie, it’s over now, Steve. It’s time to move on.”

“I loved Annie,” Steve says, trying to explain. “I still love her.”

“Do you even remember what she looks like anymore?” Bucky asks, not unkindly. 

“She was blonde,” Steve says at once. “She had brown eyes. She was beautiful.”

“Okay,” Bucky says slowly. “But specifically. Could you draw her?”

It’s a low blow, whether Bucky knows it or not. Steve can’t draw her, as a matter of fact. He has an artist’s eye, but it was a long war, full of graphic images that were seared into his brain in the place where he’d like to keep nice things. He hadn’t had his sketchbook with him on the front until months after Normandy, so he hadn’t drawn Annie while she was alive, and by the time he got the chance to sit down to do it, he was too distraught about her death to even put pencil to paper. And now, once the sharp pain of her death has slowly receded to a dull ache, he’s not sure he remembers enough of her to do a picture justice, and every day her face seems to fade more.

“No,” he admits at last. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love her.”

“No one ever said it did,” Bucky says. “But she would have wanted you to be happy, Steve.”

“I am happy,” Steve protests. Bucky doesn’t say anything to that, just gives him a look, and even Steve can’t tell if it’s a lie. He’s not unhappy, certainly. He has his job and he has his best friend and he even has his art at times. He’s content, he’d say, if not entirely satisfied. But maybe, maybe that’s all there is in this life for him. Maybe he had his chance at happiness in a forest outside of Paris and now that it’s over, all that’s left for him now is to keep on living, neither happy nor unhappy, just okay. 

 

Steve thinks about it that night, what Bucky had said on the walk home about Annie wanting him to be happy. He knows that’s the truth. If Steve had been the one killed in Paris, he knows he wouldn’t have wanted Annie to just stay alone forever. He wouldn’t have wanted to her to go back to being a prostitute, either, but surely there was some middle ground, some place and time where she could find someone to love and be happy with. And maybe it’s not even Annie holding him back on this, not directly, anyway. Maybe he’s being a coward, so scared of having his heart broken all over again that he refuses to let anyone get close. In the six months that he’s been home, he hasn’t so much as talked to another woman, not with intent, anyway. Maybe it’s time he stopped being scared and started living again.

He still thinks it’s unclassy to try to pick up a girl at work, but there’s no reason he can’t befriend the woman welder. In fact, it might even be a nice gesture, offering friendship; he doesn’t imagine she gets many guys who just want to talk, what with them all treating her alternately like she doesn’t belong in the factory or like she’s there solely for their amusement. 

All that doesn’t mean it’s easy for Steve to talk to her, though. Annie taught him how to touch a woman, but there was nothing she could tell him about how to talk to one. And this woman, she’s not like Annie; she’s a career gal and she isn’t going to be impressed by his looks or the way he holds a gun. He still has to try, if not for himself, then at least for her, to make her feel welcome to the factory.  
He makes his move right after the lunch whistle blows a few days after his talk with Bucky. The novelty has mostly worn off by this point, so the majority of the men head to the break room without stopping to gawk at the woman. Steve’s glad, as it gives him some privacy with her. He even manages to shake Bucky off, which is usually an incredible task. He thinks his friend understands, though, more than he’d like to admit.

As usual, the woman hasn’t stopped her welding for lunch. As a matter of fact, Steve hasn’t seen her take any breaks at all. She’s only at the factory some days, but when she is, she’s there in the morning before Steve gets in and still going after shift change when Steve leaves. Steve’s not sure what kind of crazy schedule this woman is working, but he’ll say this about her: she’s damn dedicated to her job.

He waits until a lull in her welding, then takes the opportunity to tap her on the shoulder. She starts and turns to him, her shaded goggles obscuring half her face. This close, Steve can see burn marks on her cheek where sparks from the welder must have jumped up and caught her.

“Yeah?” she asks, rather rudely in Steve’s opinion, but then, he is interrupting her work.

“Um, hi,” Steve manages. He wishes he could see her eyes, but he’s not sure if that would make the situation more or less intimidating. “I just wanted to say welcome to the factory. I’m, uh, not sure if anyone’s said it yet, but we’re all awful glad to have you here.”

That gets a laugh. It isn’t a sweet giggle, the kind Annie would have given him, but instead more of a disbelieving snort. 

“Look, pal,” the woman says. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but scram. I’ve got work to do.”

“It’s not a game,” Steve insists. “I just wanted-” Here he pauses, because he’s not sure what he wanted to get out of this, apart from maybe some sort of misplaced closure. “I just wanted to talk to you,” he admits, feeling himself blush.

“Uh huh,” she says, turning away. “Sure. ‘Talk.’ That’s what all the boys say, then the next thing you know, I’m flat on my back in their bed and they’re telling me to shut my yap.”

“There’s no need to be crude,” Steve tells her, taking a step back. He hadn’t minded it with Annie, but that’s because, well, she was a prostitute and they were at war. They’re back in civilization now, and even if this woman works in a factory, that doesn’t mean she can talk like that. Steve expects that kind of language from Bucky, but that’s in their own private conversations. This woman is saying these things to a virtual stranger.

The woman just shrugs. “If you have a problem with it, take your conversation somewhere else,” she says and gets back to her welding.

And that’s that. That is Steve’s entire first conversation with the woman. He walks away feeling vaguely dissatisfied, but also terribly curious about this woman he doesn’t even know the name of.

 

“Conversation not go well?” Bucky asks as Steve sits down with his lunch. 

“You could say that,” Steve agrees. “She told me to get lost then accused me of wanting to get her into bed.”

“You haven’t even seen her face whole face yet,” Bucky protests. “How could you know by this point if you wanna see the rest of her naked?”

Steve just sighs. No wonder she thinks they’re all trying to have sex with her. It’s because they are. She probably hears all of the men talking like that behind her back. And this woman, she’s not Annie, she probably hasn’t slept with all that many men. Not that she’s necessarily a virgin. Heck, for all Steve knows, she’s married. Most men these days want their wives in the homes, cooking and cleaning and doing all those other domestic things, which Steve doesn’t approve of necessarily, but figures it’s not his call. If a man wants to control his wife unnecessarily and the wife is just okay with that, who is Steve to say otherwise. This woman, though, she is clearly the kind of woman who does exactly what she wants and doesn’t take anybody’s crap, and despite their bad start, Steve can respect that.

“It’s not about that,” he assures his friend. “But I am going to try again tomorrow.”

“Good luck,” Bucky tells him. “Maybe tomorrow you’ll actually get her to take off her goggles.”

That, Steve decides, is a good goal. Tomorrow he’ll try for the goggles and maybe someday soon, he’ll try for friendship. He’ll say one thing for this woman: she’s intriguing. She’s not Annie, and she never will be, but Steve’s going to be okay with that if it’s the last thing he does.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve’s next attempt at talking to the welder goes just as badly as the first. He does achieve his short-term goal, however. He starts preparations early in the morning, right before his shift starts. She looks up as Steve looks over and they accidently make eye contact. Or at least Steve assumes it’s eye contact, but can’t tell for sure since she still has her goggles on. She doesn’t wave back, but she does pause for a second before going back to her work, so Steve counts it as a win.

At lunch, he approaches her again, more cautiously this time, determined not to get tongue-tied today. “Hi,” he says neutrally when she pauses her welding for a second. 

“You again?” she asks, turning to him. She actually sets down her welder, which Steve figures has to be a good sign. “What do you want now?”

Steve’s prepared for her sass this time, so he recovers quickly. “I feel like we didn’t really get off on the right foot,” he explains.  
She smirks and cocks a hip. “Sugar, you can stand on whatever foot you want, you’re still not getting what I got.”

"You know,” Steve says, feeling quite insulted, “that’s the second time you’ve accused me of wanting to sleep with you without letting me get more than a sentence in edgewise. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m interested in getting to know you?”

“It didn’t,” she says, but doesn’t sound angry or defensive, just matter-of-fact. “But you know what, that’s fine. It’s cool. Just go ahead and tell me how interested you are in my mind. I’ll listen, I swear I won’t even nod off to sleep or anything. Go ahead and say what you’ve gotta say.”

She makes a big show of listening, obviously not expecting Steve to have anything ready.

“Well,” Steve starts, trying to think of exactly what it is that draws him to her. Bucky’s right; it’s not about her beauty, couldn’t be with her layers that cover her body so thoroughly and her goggles that obscure half her face. “You seem extremely dedicated to your work. That intrigues me.”

“My work?” she asks, sounding confused, then catches on when Steve indicates the welder. “Oh, that. Nah, that’s not dedication. That’s just a hobby. I’ve got more important things to do at home, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to come in here a few days a week to play around.”

Steve wants to ask about these other more important things but doesn’t want to pry too far too fast. Instead he says, “You’re quite good at it. Did you work here during the war?”

A painful grimace crosses her face – what Steve can see of it, anyway- when he mentions the war, but it’s gone before he can make anything of it. “No,” she answers quietly. “I was doing other work, then, something a little more exotic, if you will. Is that all the questions you have, or what? Have I satisfied your curiosity about my little circus act here or should I pull up a chair?”

Since he’s clearly losing her attention, Steve pulls out the big guns before he misses his chance. “Will you take off your goggles?” he asks. “I wouldn’t ask,” he says quickly when it looks like she might say no, “except that I can only see half your face like this, and I like to look people in the eyes when I’m talking to them.”

“Fine,” she says and reaches up to yank the things off. Her dark hair is short enough to stick up oddly whenever the goggles jostle it, but Steve’s too busy looking at her face to even really notice. Her face looks much different, now that Steve can see the top half of it. She’s got high-cheekbones, olive skin and a slightly pointed nose, all of which Steve already knew. Her eyes, though, they take her face and make it so much deeper, so much more alive. Her eyes are soulful and lovely and tempting. They’re brown.

“Annie,” Steve says, without even meaning to. He’s not sure whether this girl looks like Annie or whether it’s his imagination playing tricks on him, taking the image of a woman he’s sort of attracted to now and skewing his memories of his first love accordingly. It could all be because she’s got brown eyes. The similarities could very well end there, for all Steve knows, but no matter what the reason, this girl reminds him so much of Annie.

The woman doesn’t take well to being called other girls’ names, apparently, because she steps back quickly and jams her goggles back down onto her head. “What did you call me?” she asks viciously. 

“N-nothing,” Steve stutters. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud: it had just happened.

“Damn right, it’s nothing,” she all but growls. “My name is Toni and you’d better remember it, buster, if you want a shot in the big leagues. You got me?”

“Of course,” Steve agrees at once. He’s not sure why this woman is so offended by what just happened, but he doesn’t want to make her angry this early in their very tentative relationship, so he just figures he’ll agree with whatever she wants for now. 

Also, now he knows her name, so that’s an unexpected plus. It’s a nice name, Toni, though not one he’s heard before on a girl. He’s sure it’s short for something but for the life of him can’t think what it might be. It doesn’t matter though. What matters is, she volunteered the information on her own, without Steve even having to ask for it. That’s progress, at least.

Heightened by his seeming success, Steve takes a risk. “Do you want to eat lunch with me?” He can hear the hopeful quality in his own voice, but that’s okay. This might be the smoothest he’s ever been around a woman without being in a relationship with her, so even if she knows he’s a bit hopeful, that’s probably the least embarrassing thing that could happen today. “As friends?”

“Let me think about it. Uh, nope. Sorry, can’t do it. Gotta work. Go find someone else to make a lunch date with, pal.”

“Oh,” Steve says, not bothering to hide his disappointment. He’d been banking the entire rest of the conversation on that gambit and now that it’s failed, he’s not sure where to go from here. “Uh, well how about tonight then? We could have dinner somewhere.” With all of Steve’s extra combat pay, he might even be able to afford one of the nicer restaurants in the city. He’s no Rockefeller, of course, but he’s sure he could show Toni a better time than a factory girl usually gets up to. Not that he’s angling for a date, exactly, though he can see how that might seem like the case. He just thinks maybe she’d be more receptive to his offers of friendship outside of the factory atmosphere. 

“Good try, soldier,” she says, losing interest in him at last. “But I think I’ll pass.”

Steve can respect that, he can. He’s disappointed, sure, but he knows rejection when he sees it and he’s not so much of a jerk to take away Toni’s choices about this. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then,” he tells her, but he doesn’t think she hears over the sound of her welder running again.

It’s okay, he tells himself as he walks away, he’ll try again tomorrow, and the next day, if necessary. He’s going to respect her wishes now and leave her be, but he’s going to keep trying. He will make friends with Toni, and that’s final. She’ll grow to like him, he’s confident. He just has to find the right buttons to push first.

 

Steve’s always been a fantastic strategist, but one of the things he learned in the war was that even the best laid plans can go awry in a heartbeat. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t make plans, though. If anything, it means he makes more plans than usual: plans to try first and backup plans for when the first ones go terribly wrong. Steve’s plans to make friends with Toni are endless, and it’s a good thing, too, because he realizes quite early that he’s probably going to need every single one of them.

The next day, Toni’s not at the factory, which gives Steve ample time to come up with several plans to engage her company. She’s obviously not going to be interested in food, though more’s the pity, because food is the one thing Steve’s sure she needs, if the way she never eats at work is any indication. Steve would cook for her, too, dig out a fancy recipe and give it his all in the kitchen. He’d have to ignore Bucky’s teasing about being the woman in the relationship, but since he and Toni aren’t in a relationship of any kind, the teasing would be fine by Steve. As it stands, food clearly isn’t the answer. That’s okay, though; there are other things to do in New York besides eat.

The day Toni comes back to work, Steve puts the first of his plans into action. 

“Hi,” he says at lunchtime. 

“It’s like you can’t take a hint,” Toni mutters, but she still turns to him expectantly, waiting for what he has to say. 

“I was thinking we might watch a film together,” Steve starts. He figures odds are she’s going to turn him down, anyway, so he might as well just get straight to the point. “There’s this great picture house I know near here-”

“I don’t think so,” she interrupts. “That sounds suspiciously like a date and I’m not sure how I haven’t made it clear yet, but I’m not interested in going on a date with you, soldier. Find some other girl to romance.”

“It’s not a date,” Steve clarifies quickly. “I just want to be friends with you.” 

“Has it ever occurred to you that _I_ don’t want to be friends with _you_?” she asks, cocking her hip again in that rather distracting manner.

“No,” Steve says at once. “Because that would be stupid. And whatever else you may be, stupid clearly isn’t one of them.” He doesn’t mean to insult her, but he thinks after it’s already out of his mouth that it’s pretty true, anyway. No one in their right mind turns down friendship for nothing, which means she’s clearly got a grudge against him already, which is just plain stupid.

Toni laughs, which could mean she’s offended or could mean she’s amused. It’s hard to tell with her. “Compliments right and left today,” she says, mostly to herself. “Look, Steve, you don’t seem to be getting the message here: I am a busy girl and I don’t have time to listen to you fumble through first date questions while you try to find the nerve to hold my hand with your clammy one and we eat popcorn together.”

Steve’s torn between saying, ‘This isn’t a date,’ and ‘My hands aren’t clammy,’ but what ends up coming out is, “How did you know my name?” He reviews their previous conversations and is quite sure he’s never told her his name. 

“You told me,” she says at once, but Steve’s sure now, he hasn’t. And if she’s lying about it, that means she’s got something to hide. Maybe she’s been asking around about him, Steve thinks wistfully. That would mean this whole thing’s for show and she really actually does want to be friends with him.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t,” he says. 

“Well then maybe someone else told me,” she snaps. “What’s the big deal? Was I just supposed to call you ‘blonde and buff’ for the rest of forever?”

“You’ve never called me that,” Steve points out.

“Let me correct that now, then. Get out of my face, blonde and buff, cuz I’m sick of looking at your ugly mug.”

“You know, you’re not very pleasant to be around,” Steve informs her.

“Then why the hell are you trying so hard to spend more time with me?” she asks pointedly. 

“Right at this moment, I’m not too sure,” Steve says and for once, he’s the one to end the conversation, walking away without another word.

He goes to the break room to find Bucky, who’s already eaten his own ham and egg salad sandwiches and is making eyes at Steve’s. 

“She turn you down again?” Bucky asks, though it’s probably pretty clear that’s exactly what happened.

“I just don’t know what that girl’s problem with me is,” Steve confesses, taking a bite of his sandwich. “It’s like she won’t even consider being around me and says things specifically to make me go away.”

“Here’s a thought,” Bucky says. He’s reaching a hand toward Steve’s second sandwich slowly, like Steve won’t notice if he’s sneaky enough. Steve does notice and pulls his sandwich back toward him and away from Bucky’s grabby little fingers. “Maybe she just doesn’t like you.”

“But I haven’t even done anything yet. She doesn’t even know me. Annie was never like this, you know?”

Bucky gives him a look, the one that means he’s doing it again, comparing everything to Annie and bringing her into conversations she doesn’t need to be a part of. Steve just shrugs apologetically. There’s nothing he can do about it, really. He’s been trying for months now to just let her go and move on with his life, but it’s not as easy as Bucky would have him believe.

“You know this girl isn’t going to be Annie,” Bucky tells him almost gently. “No matter what color her eyes are, no matter how much she might look like Annie, she’s never going to be her. Getting this girl to be friends with you isn’t going to bring Annie back. You do know that, right?”

“I know,” Steve says. “That’s not what this is about.” Okay, sure, maybe he wants another glimpse at Toni’s brown eyes for reasons that aren’t exactly platonic, but that’s really not what this plan is about. It’s about moving on and doing a little good in the process by befriending the one person in the factory no one seems to talk to.

“As long as you’re sure,” Bucky says. “Now give me half of your sandwich, pal.”

 

The next day, Steve asks Toni on a walk after work, figuring that’s harmless enough. Walking can be something friends do together, after all, and maybe she enjoys the fresh air in the park or something. Unfortunately, she doesn’t take the bait, just asks if Steve is trying to tell her she needs to lose weight. Without even meaning to, Steve gets into a disagreement with her about whether or not women are only good for one thing and therefore need to look their best at all times, with Toni taking the affirmative. It’s not until later, much later, that Steve realizes that Toni is unfailingly confident in her body, as evidenced by the way she keeps using it to distract Steve – cocking a hip here, batting an eyelash there- and never even bothers with makeup or even combing her hair. Therefore, the only explanation for the whole fight is that Toni knew Steve was going to take offense and enjoys winding him up. Steve’s not sure what it says about him that he keeps going back after that realization, but then, he’s never been the smartest guy in the room, always much too stubborn for his own good. If anything, the realization that Toni’s trying to drive him away makes him even more determined to befriend her. He’s going to do it, too. One of these days, he’s going to find a way to get her attention. He’s just not sure how quite yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That picture above is how I picture Toni's welding outfit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to apologize for taking like a freaking week to update and reply to comments. I had some kind of Martian death flu and couldn't even look at a computer screen without my vision getting fuzzy :/

For the next three weeks, Steve tries every day at lunch to get Toni to spend time with him. He tries every excuse he can think of, suggests every activity two people can conceivably do together, all to no avail. He keeps trying, though, because the more he interacts with the woman, the more he becomes convinced that he wants to spend time with her outside of work.

Finally, one Wednesday about a month after he meets her, Steve’s perseverance pays off. 

“Hello, Toni,” Steve says as he approaches her. He’s taken to specifically calling her by her name ever since he accidentally called her Annie that once and the way she hasn’t brought that incident up again makes Steve think she’s noticed and appreciates the effort.

“Hello, Lieutenant Stubborn,” Toni replies, mouth quirking up into a sort-of smile. Steve’s a bit taken aback by the nickname. Toni is always coming up with new nicknames for him, plays on how hard he’s trying to woo her or his physical characteristics, usually. Occasionally she’ll call him ‘soldier.’ It’s no stretch for her to know that about him, since he’s willing to bet most men in this factory were soldiers during the war. She could call almost any of them ‘soldier’ and she’d be right. However, he’s also fairly certain most of them weren’t officers, which makes Toni’s nickname particular to Steve. He’s not sure how she knew he was an officer, though. She can’t even have just asked around about him, because if she had done that, she probably would have found out he was a captain by the end of the war. Steve hasn’t answered to Lieutenant since November ’44, when he was promoted. That leaves two choices: Toni took a guess about his rank in the army and guessed wrong, or she dug into his background somehow and couldn’t find anything more recent than over a year ago. Neither option especially makes sense, but Steve’s not sure what to think about it.

“It’s, uh, it’s Captain Stubborn, actually,” he manages at last.

“My mistake, Cap,” she says and winks. “Let’s just skip the chitchat today and get right to the chase, huh?”

“Fair enough,” Steve agrees. “I was thinking we could go ice skating.” It’s February and a good time for it. Steve hasn’t been since he was little and he’s not sure he wouldn’t embarrass himself doing it, but he’s willing to take that chance.

“Are you any good?” she asks, skeptically, giving him a once-over. “You seem like you’d fall hard.”

“You could always catch me,” he says, without thinking. They get like this sometimes, more flirting between them than actually fighting. There are times Steve’s even convinced that Toni keeps turning him down as some sort of game, wanting to see how long she can keep pushing him before he snaps and confesses he wants more than friendship from her.

“You’d flatten me,” she says with certainty. 

It’s true, he would. She’s strong from factory work, but he’s got at least six inches and eighty pounds on her. He’d crush her in an instant if he happened to fall on top of her. 

“Well then I’d fall the other way,” he decides. “It won’t hurt the ice any to have me fall on it.”

“You’re going to keep trying until I say yes, aren’t you?”

“Not necessarily,” Steve argues. “I’ve got plenty other ideas that I’m going to try before I come back to this one.” It’s not entirely true: he’s quickly running out of plans. He’s sure more will come to him and he’s willing to think of them, but it would sure save him a lot of trouble if she’d just agree today.

“But you’ll keep approaching me, keeping asking me out until I say yes, correct?”

Steve nods.

“Okay, then.” She sighs. “When and where?”

It’s so unexpected after all this time that Steve stutters for a few moments before he manages to get out his answer. “We could go right after work,” he says at last. “There’s a vacant lot right next to my apartment building that they always run with water and let freeze over. You can borrow my pal's skates; he’s got small feet.”

“Oh,” she says, frowning and for a terrible moment, Steve thinks she’s going to take it back, change her mind. “Okay, then. Just let me make a call. I have to make arrangements, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Make a call?” Steve repeats, confused. “To where? From where?”

“To my house,” she says, looking at him like he’s stupid. “From the manager’s office. Obviously.”

“Your house has a phone?” Steve asks. His building doesn’t even have a phone. If he needs to make a call, he has to go across the street to the bakery and pay five cents to use theirs. Bucky calls it extortion, but Steve knows the baker has to make a living, same as everyone else, and for the first time in his life, Steve’s not hard up for cash. Still, for Toni to have a phone in her own place, she must be fairly well-off. Telephones are getting cheaper by the year, especially since the war ended, but they’re not in Steve’s price range quite yet.

Toni doesn’t answer his question, just waves him off and waltzes over to the manager’s office. She doesn’t knock, either, just barges in. Steve cringes, waiting for the inevitable explosion from within; the manager here has a temper that Steve has been fortunate enough not to be on the wrong side of, but he’s sure somebody just walking into his office without permission is going to end in tears.

Nothing happens for a long, long moment. Then the secretary, who hadn’t said anything at all as Toni walked past, gets up cautiously and closes the door Toni left open. Then that’s it. There’s no explosion, no yelling or cussing. Steve watches with anxiety, but all that happens is that Toni comes back out five minutes later and crosses the factory floor to where Steve’s still waiting at her work station. 

“Okay,” she says. “That’s taken care of, so we’re good to go. Meet you outside after shift change?”

“Definitely,” Steve says. It must come out too eager, though, despite his confusion about what just happened, because she gives him a knowing look.

“Now get out of my hair,” she says, not unkindly. “I’m sure Bucky would love to hear the story of your hard-won triumph.”

Steve goes, not willing to antagonize her, lest she change her mind already. It’s not until later, when he’s finished telling Bucky about the whole conversation and Bucky is clapping him on the back, genuinely pleased for him, that he realizes he never said what his friend’s name is. It’s odd, but there are things Toni just seems to know about him without being told, and Bucky’s name is among them.

 

“Let’s be clear,” Toni says when she meets Steve outside the factory after shift change. She’s still in her work clothes, which is fine, since Steve is, too. It’s nothing fancy, this outing, so there’s definitely no dress code. “This is not a date. I will not be coming up to your apartment afterward to drink coffee and ‘warm up,’ if you catch my drift.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees at once. “I would never try to pressure you like that.”

“The sad thing is, I believe you,” she says. “Okay, lead the way, captain.”

Steve does. 

The vacant lot gets a lot of neighborhood traffic in the evenings, but at this time of day, it’s pretty empty. It’s just them and a handful of scruffy kids with boots instead of skates who look like they’ve just gotten out of school. Toni refuses to go up to his apartment with him, mostly just to be contrary, he thinks, so Steve runs up to the fourth floor to grab the skates. When he comes back down, Toni’s not where he left her by the door and his heart sinks. For a terrible minute, he thinks she’s left him, changed her mind about their date and gone home. Then he sees her again, crouched down next to one of the kids, one who appears to have fallen. It looks an awful lot like she’s kissing his boo-boo, which just blows Steve’s mind completely. Of all the things he’d expected from this woman, maternal instinct isn’t one of them. It’s not that factory women can’t be mothers; he bets many, if not most, were during the war. No, it’s more this woman in particular. Toni is brash and rough, nothing that Steve associates with motherhood. Not that kissing one boo-boo makes her a mother, in any sense of the word, but still, it is odd.

When she sees him, Toni straightens up, pulling the fallen boy with her. She pats his head once and says something quiet that Steve can’t hear, then walks carefully back across the ice toward Steve. She steps lightly, but her balance and poise impresses Steve. With all her manic energy barely contained by her skin, he’d imagined she would be the type of gal to fall and fall hard. Which, actually, thinking back to their conversation earlier, is the exact same thing she’d thought about him. Well, looks like they’re going to prove each other wrong.

“I’ve got the skates,” Steve says, handing her Bucky’s set. They’re old and battered and will probably be quite a bit too big for her, but Steve tucked some rags into the toes while he was upstairs, so he thinks they’ll work fine. “Have you been skating before?” he asks, thinking of the way she glided almost effortlessly across the ice in her boots just now. 

“Plenty of times,” she says, sitting down on the stairs next to him to slide the skates on and lace up. Steve joins her and is pleased when she doesn’t say anything about him sitting slightly too close for this to be anything but a date. He doesn’t even mean to do it, but she’s just so beautiful and so intriguing that he can’t help himself around her. “I went to school upstate until I was twelve. Every school I went to there was a lake view and skating was one of the few things I liked that the schools actually approved of.”

“How many schools did you go to?” he asks curiously. He’s pretty sure he’s right in thinking that she’s fairly well-off, if she went upstate to school, and he feels slightly embarrassed about thinking he might impress her with his GI money. Still, he wants to know everything about her, even the silly things like where she got an education.

“Three upstate. I got myself kicked out of one after another until my father had finally had enough when I was eleven and sent me to school in France after the Crash on Wall Street. I think he mostly wanted to get me out of the way, keep me safe, you know? But I wasn’t even there a year before I got kicked out of that school, too, and that was pretty much about the time he resigned himself to having a stubborn, willful daughter who would never be a lady. At that point, I knew I wanted to be a working gal, so he let me be tutored at home and hang around the factory whenever I wasn’t in lessons.”

“Your father worked at a factory?” Steve asks. Every word out of her mouth has him more captivated, more eager to know this girl’s whole story. 

“Something like that,” she says, straightening up. Steve finishes lacing his skates, too, and stands.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering his hand.

“This isn’t dancing, Rogers,” she warns him, but takes his hand anyway. “If you try to dip me, I’ll kick you in the shins, skates and all.” 

Toni is an absolute professional on the ice, just as Steve suspected. If he and Bucky hadn’t had all that practice as children, Steve’s sure he wouldn’t be able to keep up with her. They skate circles around the ice, hand-in-hand, dodging the other skaters easily. On one pass, Toni even blows a kiss at the boy she’d helped earlier, causing the boy to turn scarlet and nearly fall again. He’s only a lad, can’t be more than ten, but Toni’s apparently a charmer to all ages.

Steve has the time of his life, but eventually all good things come to an end, as they say. After about an hour of skating, Steve starts to get a bit chilled and he can hear Toni’s teeth chattering, even over the noise of the cars going past and the other skaters talking. Carefully, he leads them back over to the steps of his building, where by silent mutual agreement, they change back into their boots.

“Are you sure you won’t come inside for coffee?” Steve asks hopefully. “No funny business, I promise. Just coffee.” He’s had such an enjoyable time, chatting with her about skating and factory work and lots of other things besides, though she’d been a definite tease and not given him any more information about her past or personal life, no matter how Steve hinted. He really does not want her to leave.

“Wish I could,” she says and Steve feels warm all over when he realizes she means that. “But I have to get home to Gr- uh, I mean, I have to get back.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees, not mentioning her aborted sentence, even though he’s dying to know what she’d been about to say. He knows if he presses now, she’ll withdraw and his chances of another outing together will vanish. “Can I walk you home?” 

“No need,” she says. She turns and motions to a car that’s been parked on the other side of the street for the past twenty minutes or so, one that Steve had noticed as being especially flashy for this neighborhood. The man in the driver’s seat climbs out of the car and waves to her. “That’s my ride,” Toni says, turning back to Steve. “Thanks for a good time, sugar.” She throws him a wink, then turns away and crosses the street, dodging traffic as she goes. Steve watches, shocked, as the man with the car moves around the front to sit in the passenger side while Toni climbs into the driver’s seat. Then, without so much as a glance back, she drives away.

And that’s it. That’s the end of Steve’s sort-of date. It was a great time and only reinforced Steve’s curiosity and interest in this woman. One thing’s for sure: she’s a gal of many secrets. Steve’s not going to press her to tell them all, not now and maybe not ever, but he’s going to get to know this girl, no matter what he has to do to get to that point. It’ll be worth it in the end, he’s sure.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve’s next not-date with Toni is to a movie house, where Toni complains about how much she hates popcorn, then proceeds to eat a solid half of the bucket Steve buys. The film is a thriller about a mental institution that was released back in December. Steve was surprised when Toni said she wanted to see it, but figures he shouldn’t be, considering the things he knows about her. Toni’s one tough cookie and doesn’t even jump or cling to Steve or anything the whole movie. She seems interested, certainly, but not scared by any means.

After the film is over, Toni agrees to a walk in the park. They talk about the film, at first. Steve thought it was just swell, especially the artistic choices made by the director. He doesn’t know much about this Hitchcock fellow, though he’s heard good things, but he’s definitely open to seeing more of his work. In fact, Steve’s up for pretty much any type of film, as long as he gets to see it with Toni.

“So what did you do in the war, Cap?” she asks after they’ve exhausted the topic of the film. 

“I was a commando,” Steve explains. “My unit was stationed behind the lines, working to destabilize Axis regimes. We were in North Africa until about D-Day, then we spent the rest of the war in Europe. We worked with Resistance Groups, usually, provided backup, firepower, that sort of thing. It was mostly a lot of sneaking around and keeping our heads down. Sometimes we helped liberate towns or deliver important packages, but the majority of it was hurry up and wait.”

“Sounds fascinating,” she says, though her tone sounds like she means the exact opposite. 

“Well why’d you ask if you weren’t interested?” Steve laughs. 

Toni shrugs. “Seemed polite. I’ve been giving that a shot lately, being polite.”

“Well, maybe you should give it up as a bad job,” Steve advises teasingly. 

“Okay, then,” Toni agrees. “Your war career super boring, Cap. I hope you were a better soldier than you are a story-teller, because that little spiel of yours nearly put me to sleep just now.”

“I’m not that bad,” Steve says, laughing.

“You kind of are,” Toni says, but she takes his hand, so that’s okay.

“So what did you do during the war, Miss Entertainer?” Steve asks, squeezing her hand through their gloves. “Were you entertaining the troops with the USO?”

“Working in factories and entertaining troops weren’t the only two options for women during the war, you know,” she says. “Besides, my father would have had kittens if he saw me up there on stage flashing my knickers.”

“Are you telling me no soldier’s ever seen your knickers?” Steve asks, intrigued. Toni seems like a worldly woman, the type who wouldn’t be all that shy about giving the boys a little treat for morale. Steve doesn’t necessarily approve of this wantonness, but his first love had been a prostitute. If Toni was his, really his and not just his pal that sometimes goes on almost-dates with him, he’d probably be more jealous, more insistent that no one but him ever saw her knickers again. As it is, though, he’s in no position to make demands like that. In fact, he doesn’t even really want to; what’s it to him if Toni’s past is slightly sordid? Not that it is sordid, to his knowledge; this is all theoretical. 

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Toni says, winking cheekily at him. “Let’s just say that my dissolute youth probably contributed to the old man’s death enough even without me becoming a showgirl.”

“Oh,” Steve says, feeling slightly bad about the teasing now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize your father was dead.”

“It’s okay,” Toni says, shrugging. “We never really got along, you know? He was a pretty old-fashioned bastard and I’m kind of a modern gal, if you catch my drift. I mean, I loved him and the man never did a kinder thing for me than when he let me start hanging around the factories, but we never had too much in common, him and me.”

“Still,” Steve presses. He feels like he should share something personal about himself, too, to be fair, and also because he wants Toni to know these things about him, just like he wants to know them about her. “I never knew my father,” he says. “He died in the last year of the first War and I was born six months later. But my mother, she was a great lady, raised me all on her own. She, uh, she died when I was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry,” Toni tells him, squeezing his hand and she really sounds it. 

“You remind me of her,” Steve confesses and Toni snorts a laugh.

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” she says. “You can’t look at me the way you do and still say I remind you of your mother, Steve.”  
Steve doesn’t even pretend to not know the way she means. Instead, he forces down a blush and says, “I meant that you’re a great lady, too.”

“More than you know,” she says cockily, but Steve can totally see through her. This girl has a hard time taking a compliment without deflecting, but Steve has a theory he’s very willing to try out, one that involves complementing her as often as he can until she realizes just how great she is and can admit it without making it a joke. It’s going to take time, but Steve’s always been a patient man.

 

Steve and Toni go to a soda shop after work a week later. Steve’s suggested that they might go a little later in the evening, but Toni’s always vetoed these suggestions at once, insisting they go out right after shift change. Steve can respect that she has other responsibilities, but it’d be a lot easier to plan around them if she’d at least tell him what they are. 

The shop itself is a nice place and clearly makes enough money to stay open even during the winter. It’s warm enough inside to take off their coats and gloves. Toni’s cheeks are still wind-reddened by the time they sit down with their ice cream- Steve with vanilla and Toni with peppermint- and Steve can’t help but admire her beauty over top his cone. They’re sitting in a booth by the window and the sun is shining in, highlighting the dark curls.

“Why do you wear your hair short?” Steve asks curiously. As Steve understands it, longer curls worn under hats are popular these days, have been all through the war. Even the girls in the factories who wore their hair up under their bandanas usually kept it long so they could wear it down when they went out on the town. Toni, though, keeps her short and wears her bandana all the time, even on the streets. It looks good on her, but it’s not exactly fashionable.

“It’s easier this way,” Toni admits, not looking embarrassed about it at all. “Ever since Gr- uh, that is, ever since the war ended, I’ve had less time to myself, so it’s just easier not to have to worry about my hair. Besides, I’ve always been more of a trend-setter than a follower. You just wait, within the next few years everyone will be wearing their hair short.”

Steve doesn’t doubt it, especially not with the confidence in her voice as she says it. “You’re something else, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” she says and then adds with a sly smile, “And you’ve got ice cream on your nose.”

 

They go on two more outings in the next week, one to the museum, which Toni makes known quite loudly that she finds dreadfully dull, and one to snowy Central Park, where they build a very ugly snowman together that Toni affectionately names Steve. Their next sort-of-date, the sixth by Steve’s count, he finally convinces her to come out with him at night. They go to a dance club Bucky recommended. It’s a flashy place, nothing like Steve would go to on his own. He waits outside for Toni, who arrives only minutes after he does in that fancy black car of hers.

“She’s a real sight tonight,” the driver calls to him before he opens her door.

He’s right. Steve’s never even seen Toni out of men’s work clothes, so he’s not sure what to expect. He’s not disappointed. She’s dressed to the nines, in a red satin dress that’s so scandalous Steve’s mouth drops. There are no shoulders on the dress. There aren’t even any sleeves at all. All that’s holding up the number are her rather shapely breasts. And that’s not even taking into account the slit in the bottom of the dress that comes clear up to her thigh.

Steve stares. The people on the street stare. Everyone is staring and Toni just grins like a shark.

“Like what you see?” she asks, coming up to Steve and sliding her arm through his. She must be freezing, Steve thinks, with no coat and no protection from the icy wind to speak of except her satin gloves that come up to her elbows and maybe her gold choker, neither of which Steve thinks would provide very much warmth. 

“Y-yes,” he stutters. He supposes he hadn’t registered until now, though he’d known, of course he’d known, that Toni is actually a woman and therefore terrifying. He leads her inside as quick as he can manage, focusing on finding a path through the crowd rather than trying to make any type of conversation. It’s better if he doesn’t talk, since he’s less likely to make a fool of himself that way. 

It’s not until they’re inside and loitering by the wall that Steve realizes he’s going to have to ask her to dance. The music is too loud and the dance floor too crowded and she’s so beautiful tonight. She’s beautiful all the time, but tonight it’s overwhelming. After a terrible minute of just staring at her helplessly and trying not to look down to where her breasts are peaking out of her dress, Toni finally takes pity on him and shouts over the music, “Ask me to dance, dummy!”

“Let’s dance,” Steve manages, offering his hand. She takes it, shaking her head but looking amused. She leads him out on the dance floor, then positions his hand on her waist. 

“You ready?” she asks. They’re playing something upbeat and quick, something Steve’s not sure at all he’ll be able to keep up with. He nods anyway, though, and she starts to lead him through a dance. Steve knows, realistically, that he should be the one to lead, knows that people are probably staring at them for more reasons than Toni’s dress, though to be honest, he’s surprised her dress lets her move as well as she does, what with how tight it is. She’s good, too, would have to be with all the energy she keeps pent up all day long. It’s all Steve can do to keep up. He doesn’t dare try anything too athletic, like picking her up and tossing her. 

They dance three numbers together before Toni pulls him to the bar, panting. She orders for both of them, another thing Steve knows he should be in charge of but can’t quite bring himself to do. This just isn’t his scene; if they were in the battlefield or even just out on the street, he would definitely be able to be a more assertive party in this relationship. In here, though, in this club, all he can do is take the glass Toni hands him and take a tentative swig. It burns going down and he can see her laugh at the face he makes, even if he can’t hear it for all the noise around them.

She takes his hand again, then, and he’s afraid for a second that she’s going to drag him back onto the dance floor. Instead, she pulls him to the edge of the room, where it’s a little less crowded and quiet enough that they can hear each other without having to shout.

“You’re having a bad time, aren’t you?” Toni says. Steve starts to deny this, but she shakes her head. “Don’t lie, pal, I can see your face. If you don’t like to dance, why would you ask me here?”

“Seemed like the thing to do,” Steve says, because he can’t say, ‘It seemed romantic.’

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” Toni says, rolling her gorgeous brown eyes. 

In that moment, Steve doesn’t tell her he loves her, even though he really, really wants to. He doesn’t ask to kiss her or reach up to caress her cheek or do any of the things he’s been dreaming about. He just stands there, staring at her, trying to think of something to say that won’t endanger this thing they have together, this thing where they’re not dating but still going on dates.

Except, Toni must feel it, too, these things swarming around Steve’s mind, because she says, “Goddammit,” mostly to herself and yanks him down into a kiss. It’s not an especially good kiss, too much teeth and lips not wet enough, but Steve lets himself sink into it, lets himself remember all the things Annie taught him about how to kiss a woman. At one point, Steve even thinks he sees a camera flash, but that could just be the fireworks behind his eyes at finally getting to do this after so long of waiting and wanting.

At last, Toni pulls back, panting harshly. “I guess that makes this a date,” she says, smirking up at him.

“I guess so,” Steve says, more cooly than he’s managed so far tonight. Inside, though, all he can think is, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, see that gorgeous dress up there? That's what I'm picturing Toni wearing in the dance scene. It's not really a dancing dress, but I can totally see Toni shocking the entire club by showing up in it, especially poor Steve. You can also find it [here](http://alisonkerr.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/gilda-black-dress-use.jpg)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep [this](http://trolleyla.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/suzy_parker-vogue-75.jpg) outfit in mind, because it's going to become relevant real soon

Steve walks home that night with a bounce in his step that makes Bucky stare when he gets through the door to their apartment.

“Good night?” Bucky asks with a grin from his perch on the couch, watching with interest as Steve hangs up his coat and slips off his shoes. 

“The best,” Steve tells him. “Can’t think of when I’ve had one better, in fact.” He sits down next to his pal, reclining back against the couch and still wearing the smile he hasn’t been able to get rid of since the moment Toni kissed him. The only consolation he has about it is that she hadn’t seemed to be able to get the besotted grin off her face, either, not the entire night. They’d still been smiling dopily at each other as her driver had forcibly dragged her out of the club and into the car, lecturing her the whole way about her responsibilities and how someone scary named Natasha was going to show the man the force of her wrath if Toni wasn’t home as soon as humanly possible. Steve would have been struck by the oddity of this whole scene, but he’s learned by this point to expect the unexpected from Toni. In fact, it’s one of the things he really loves about her: how unpredictable she can be sometimes. 

“Did you at least get to take her home?” Bucky asks, giving him a look, the kind he gives Steve when he’s worried Steve isn’t taking enough ladies to bed. If that was any real test of anything, Bucky might have a right to be worried, considering Steve hasn’t bedded anyone since Annie died. As it is, though, Steve’s not necessarily unhappy about the way he’s been living his life- it’s led him to this point, hasn’t it? He can’t bring himself to regret any of the decisions he’s made in the last few years, because they’ve brought him right where he wants to be. And sure, he’d like to take Toni home, get her into a bed and have his way with her (or more likely, let her have her way with him), but he’s willing to wait. It’ll be worth it when it happens and until then, Steve can definitely wait, no matter what Bucky thinks.

“No,” Steve says, not feeling self-conscious about it at all. “I didn’t. Toni’s a respectable lady, I’ll have you know. She doesn’t take just any man to bed.”

“I doubt that,” Bucky says, and Steve gives him a sharp look.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Bucky says carefully. “It’s just, you’ve seen her, Steve. You’ve seen how she is around the men at the factory.”

“Poised and hardworking?” Steve asks, because while he knows what Bucky’s trying to hint at, he’s not sure there’s any basis at for the judgment.

“She plays hard to get,” Bucky says, voice losing its careful edge. “But everyone can tell she’s a bit of a floozy just by looking at her. Look at the way she doesn’t even wear a hat when she’s out. It’s downright disrespectful. And look how she just waltzes around the factory like she owns the place. No respectable lady would act like that. She’s looking for action, trying to provoke someone- mark my words, Steve.”

“You always do this,” Steve says, starting to get angry. “You always take whatever gal I like and find whatever you can to bring her down. You were like this with Annie, too, constantly ragging on her and trying to make me ditch her. Even after she was dead you couldn’t leave well enough alone. You just had to keep bringing her down, making her seem cheap. You know what, I think you’re jealous. I think you’re jealous that these women want me and not you.”

“I’m not jealous!” Bucky hisses. “And if every single woman you got involved with wasn’t the used and abused type, maybe there wouldn’t be anything for me to say. I’m looking out for you, pal. Can you really tell me you’re just okay with having secondhand goods?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Steve says, cold fury spreading through him. He stands, takes a few steps back to distance himself from Bucky. “Toni isn’t some ragdoll or sex object that’s only there for my amusement. She’s a woman, a human being and she deserves your fucking respect.”

“You’re such a goddamn hypocrite!” Bucky says, standing, too. “You always have been. Back in the war, with Annie and Nell, you refused to let us sleep with them, but next thing we all knew, there went the Lieutenant, hand in hand with the whore, off to fuck in our tent, yours and mine, if you recall, without so much as a by-your-leave.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Steve insists.

“It’s still like that!” Bucky shouts. “You’re still doing it, still treating the rest of us like scum for thinking about sex when you’re doing the same exact thing. You’re the one who doesn’t respect Toni, Rogers, not me. You’re the one who kept harassing her for over a month to go on a date with you even when she clearly said no. You’re the one who kept pushing and pushing and refused to let up until you got your own way. Which, hey, let me tell you, nothing new there. You just take and take and you think you’re such a good guy, but did you ever stop to think maybe she really didn’t want to be around you? And I wouldn’t blame her, either, because sometimes, Steve, even I can’t stand to be around you.”

“Oh,” Steve says quietly, letting this all sink in. He’s never thought of it like that before. “I, uh, I’m going to bed.” And he walks out before either of them can say anything else they might regret.

Because, the thing is, he realizes as he lies in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, Bucky’s right. Not about Toni, of course, though he’s probably right about that, too, to some extent- Steve doesn’t think Toni’s a saint who’s never bedded a man, by any means. But the thing that really gets to Steve is the idea that Bucky might be right about how Steve treats women. He’s always thought he was better than treating them like sex objects, better than just wanting to stick his hand up their skirts. He’s not, though. He’s just the same as everyone else. He practically forced his company on Toni and even if it wasn’t explicitly sexual, it was still against her will. They may have something now that Steve can’t bring himself to regret, but he wasn’t at all respectful of her wishes at the beginning.

Well, it’s too late now, he figures. The best he can do is apologize and hope she forgives him. And vow to be a better person in the future, of course. He never meant to be such a jerk in the first place, but now that he’s seen the error of his ways, he’s going to do everything in his power to do better from now on.

 

The next morning, Bucky’s already in the kitchen when Steve gets there. Steve doesn’t apologize and he doesn’t expect Bucky to, either. That’s not the kind of relationship they have. Instead, Bucky just looks up from his coffee and says, “I’m glad you had a good time last night.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, pouring himself a cup. “I’m glad you’ve got my back.”

And that’s it, fight over. 

“This came for you yesterday,” Bucky says, handing over a telegram.

“Thanks,” Steve says, unfolding it and reading quickly. “It’s from Colonel Fury,” he tells his friend. “He wants to meet me after work today.”

“Probably wants to recruit you back into the service,” Bucky predicts darkly. “You should just tell that bastard you don’t owe the army a goddamn thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve says vaguely. He’s really not sure what Fury could want. The man had been in charge of coordinating commando teams during the war, but now that it’s peacetime, Steve’s not sure what to expect. Actually, he’d thought Fury was in Japan, helping with the occupation there, but if he’s back in the States, it stands to reason that he’s got some kind of job or mission for Steve to do.

 

They meet in an abandoned warehouse, very cloak and dagger but also very like Fury, the paranoid bastard. 

“Captain,” Fury says, nodding to him grimly.

“Colonel,” Steve replies. “What can I do for you?”

“As you may know,” Fury says, lowering his voice like this will be some great secret. “The cost to care for returning veterans is astronomical. To help cover these costs, the military has authorized the practice of private fundraising aimed toward wealthy clubs and society. To encourage donations, we’ve been sending our most notable and attractive veterans to meetings of these groups. The New York Ladies’ Aid Society, which I might point out that many of our city’s wealthiest women are involved in, meets tomorrow afternoon, and we mean to send one of our best men.”

“Okay,” Steve says slowly, thinking about this. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Fury just gives him a look and Steve feels like an idiot when it all connects. 

“Colonel, I’m sure I’m not the right man for the job. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but women make me nervous.” He blushes as he says it, embarrassed beyond belief to have to point this flaw out to the man who was his superior officer. 

“I did notice, in fact,” Fury says cooly. “I also noticed you’ve come full circle on that front, if you catch my drift.” Steve doesn’t but nods anyway. “Why is a mystery to me, Captain, but for some reason, women seem to find your stuttering and blushing charming. I’d wager it has something to do with your pectoral muscles, but let’s not get into that.”

Every time Steve thinks he can’t get any redder, he feels his face flaming just a little bit more. “Yes, sir,” he manages.

“Great,” Fury says, rubbing his hands together. “It’s settled, then. Be at the Waldorf-Astoria tomorrow at four.”

“What?” Steve asks, quite sure he hasn’t actually agreed to anything. “But, sir-”

“You have your orders, Captain,” Fury says in a tone of voice that brooks no argument.

“Yes, sir.” Steve sighs.

 

The Waldorf-Astoria is an intimidating sight. It’s huge, for one, and clearly the type of building made for only the very rich to stay in. Steve doesn’t feel underdressed, exactly, in his dress uniform, but he knows even as he’s stepping into the lobby that he’s terribly overmatched. When a bellhop leads Steve to the room they’re to be meeting in and he sees a dozen or so women clustered around tables, eating hors d'oeuvre in the very best dresses money can buy, he feels himself start to sweat. Luckily, the women don’t seem to notice him at first. The majority of them are bent over some newspaper and they’re discussing it in loud, derisive voices. 

“And here, I’d thought she was done playing the field,” one heavy woman in pink is saying.

“You should have known better, Kathryn,” the woman next to her says. “A girl like that, brought up like she was, how could she ever settle down like a proper lady?”

“That’s what comes of new money,” another lady says, nodding agreeably. “Not to mention the father letting her play in those factories of his- it’s no wonder she turned out to be such a loose woman.”

“And him leaving her all that money, not even insisting she get married first, well, they brought it upon themselves and that’s for sure.”

“And who even knows what she was doing during the war. Disappeared, she did, but I’ll bet you any amount she was gallivanting around, flaunting her cheap ways. Mark my words, that’s what she was doing. I’m only surprised she didn’t bring back half a dozen men, all lined up behind her like puppies, panting to get into her bed.”

Steve just watches in horrified fascination as all these finely dressed women fall over themselves to agree with one another and talk down some nameless woman who’s apparently being featured in some paper or another.

“Horrible, aren’t they?” someone whispers from behind him. “Every time they get together, it’s always like this. It’s just not a good day unless they can drag someone else’s name through the mud.”

It takes Steve a second to realize he knows that voice. He whips around and is shocked and delighted to see Toni standing there. She’s wearing the tamest thing he’s ever seen her in, an off-white blouse that parts in the top to show her stunning collarbone and buttons elegantly over her stomach. The black skirt, which poofs out just so, frames her ridiculously narrow waist and comes down only to her mid-calves. She’s even wearing a black box hat with a large flower on it, which brings the whole look together.

All Steve can do is stare. And stare. And stare some more. 

“I take it you like the outfit, then?” she asks teasingly.

“Your body is amazing,” Steve tells her earnestly.

Toni just laughs. “You would think so,” she says cryptically. 

She seems like she might say more, but a voice behind them says loudly and with a forced pleasantry, “Miss Stark, how nice to see you! Won’t you come sit down?”

For a long second, Steve is terribly confused about who the woman is talking to. Then he sees Toni’s smile go brittle and forced. “Come on,” she hisses at him through her teeth, putting her arm through his. “Time to play your part.”

“Hello, girls,” she says more loudly to the room at large. “Look what I found lurking in the doorway. This is our guest of honor, Captain Steven Rogers.”

“Hello, Captain,” the heavy woman in pink says, batting her eyelashes at him. She pats an empty chair next to her and says, “Please, sit down. Miss Stark, be a dear and fetch our guest a drink, won’t you?”

Steve turns to Toni, sure all the confusion and wariness he’s feeling is written on his face. “Miss Stark?” he asks. “Not- not Antonia Stark?”

“The very same, in fact,” she tells him, that terrible smile never faltering. “Don’t tell me you never followed my exploits in the papers, Captain. In fact, while I get you a drink, why don’t you have the girls show you the latest article. It’s a very lovely piece, I’ve been told.” Then she pries his grip loose and flounces over to the bar to place an order. 

“That’s our Miss Stark,” one of the women says, discomfort clear under her smile. “Such a kidder.”

She moves to push the paper they’d been looking at away, but Steve catches a glimpse of the picture on the front. The headline reads, “Stark Heiress At It Again,” and the picture is one Steve recognizes almost instantly. It’s of a kiss he’s been replaying in his mind for two days, now. The angle is such that most of Steve’s face isn’t visible, though Toni’s is. She looks happy and awed and so goddamn beautiful that it’s no wonder Steve didn’t see it coming.

He should have, though. He definitely should have. Her name isn’t exactly common, for one thing. He should have guessed that it was a nickname for Antonia. And with her fancy car and her clearly expensive dress, combined with her working class attitude, what else could she be but new money? Hell, she’s been working in a Stark Industries factory, had waltzed into the manager’s office without any trouble and seemed to set her own hours. It all makes sense and Steve can’t understand how he could have been so blind, beauty or not.

“Here you are, Captain,” Toni says, setting a glass by his elbow.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here, Miss Stark,” Steve manages. 

“You know me, Captain,” she says, smile becoming just that little bit more real. “I can’t resist a good story. In fact, why don’t you tell us about what you did in the war.”

Steve glares at her.

“Yes, Captain,” another woman says, trying to steal his attention. As if she ever could. “We’d love to hear about your adventures.”

Clearly, Steve’s going to get trapped into this. He might as well go gracefully. “I’ve been told I’m not a very good storyteller,” Steve starts, feeling his heart lighten when he hears a snort from Toni. Okay, so she’s not who he thought she was, but she never lied, not really, and it doesn’t change anything. Steve’s still in love with her. The only difference now is that the tabloids might be after them, and Steve, he’s got nothing to hide.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” a lady in an ugly green hat says, reaching forward to touch his arm for just a moment too long. “I’m sure you’ll do lovely. Now, please, we insist.”

Sighing quietly, Steve starts into a story about the liberation of Paris, arguably one of his most exciting adventures. Some of it’s classified, of course, but there’s enough that’s general knowledge for Steve to be able to spin what he considers an engaging tale. If he were to judge the story solely on the way the women star at him with rapt attention, he’d think it’s a raging success. As it is, however, he can practically feel the way they’re undressing him in their minds, their fingers itching to touch his chest.

Steve has never felt more like a sexual object in his life. After he’s finished telling them about the liberation of Paris, he moves on to a few other adventures before seguing into a spiel about all the good men he’s seen injured in the line of duty and how they need to be supported and compensated for their sacrifice to this great country. It’s not a particularly good speech, because Steve’s not a particularly good speaker and he knows that if he weren’t attractive, these women wouldn’t give him the time of day. They want him, though, he can tell, and he only gets through the next three hours by sneaking almost constant glances at Toni, who makes faces at him and smirks in that knowing way she has.

Finally, finally, the meeting ends and Steve’s allowed to leave. He makes his way out into the hall as quickly as he can without seeming rude, with much more money than he’s ever seen in his life promised to his cause.

“Wait up, Steve,” he hears behind him and before he knows it, Toni’s in step with him, putting her arm through his again. 

“Miss Stark,” he says politely. By this point, after that terrible meeting, he’s over any shock he may have felt earlier about her true identity, but he figures he’d better keep up appearances, just in case any of the other ladies are behind them listening.

“Oh,” she says, pulling a face Steve might have considered ‘guilty’ on anyone else. “Uh, sorry about that. I know I should have told you, but it just didn’t come up, you know?”

“That’s a terrible apology,” Steve tells her, but he can’t help but smile. “But it’s okay. I forgive you.” While they’re apologizing, though, he should probably make his own. “And, uh, it was brought to my attention recently that I may have acted like a jerk in regards to your wishes to be left alone in the early days of our relationship, so I’m sorry for that.”

“You were a total jerk,” Toni agrees. “But I’m a jerk, too, just in general, so I think we’re pretty even. Say, do you want to get something to eat? They never serve any real food at these meetings, just that fancy-pants inedible stuff.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I’d like that. Lead the way, Miss Stark.”

  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man, this chapter has fluff, it has violence, it has smut, it has talk about the future. needless to say, we're getting close to the plot climax. there's also a lovely dress in this chapter, modeled below by Lucille Ball ;)

It doesn’t change anything much, Steve knowing the truth. He still feels the same way about Toni, still gets little flutters in his stomach sometimes when he thinks about her. He still thinks about her when he wraps his hand around his cock. He imagines her naked, legs spread, lying on his bed. He thinks about kissing her smooth thighs, nuzzling his way up further to get his mouth on her, using his tongue and fingers to work her open. He wants to flip her over, get her on her hands and knees and slide himself inside. 

Needless to say, Steve spends a lot of nights with his fist in his mouth, muffling his moans so Bucky won’t hear him through the wall. And it’s not just that Steve is sexually attracted to Toni. He loves her, he does. But he won’t pretend he’s not waiting with bated breath for the day she invites him back to her place and they get intimate. 

Until that happens, though, Steve’s perfectly happy to just spend time with Toni. Their date nights get more and more frequent, every few days, in fact. They still go out after work so Toni can get home to her unnamed responsibilities, but that’s fine. Admittedly, Steve starts to run out of creative and exciting date ideas after a few more weeks, but when he confesses this to Toni, she just laughs and tells him to stop being so uptight about trying to impress her. After that, Steve figures it’s probably okay to repeat a few ideas. They start going to the park more often to play in the snow while it lasts and they go ice skating few more times. Steve also finds out completely by accident that Toni is very fond of the zoo, so they go there a number of times. It’s during one of these outings that Steve finally gets the nerve to bring the subject up.

“How do you feel about marriage?” Steve asks as casually as he can. They’re standing by the penguins’ enclosure, and though they’re both wearing gloves, Steve imagines he can feel the warmth of Toni’s skin with her hand in his.

“Depends,” she says absently, not bothering to look away from a penguin swimming in the icy water. “How do you feel about children?”

“I want some,” Steve says at once. He hasn’t been thinking about it necessarily, not the same way he has about marriage, but he won’t deny that he wants kids. He’s twenty-seven, which isn’t old by any means, but his mother had only been seventeen when he’d been born and his father, had he lived, would have been twenty-one. Add that to the fact that almost all of Steve’s buddies from the war are settling down and having babies makes him think now is definitely the right time for kids. Not to mention, he thinks Toni would look undeniably beautiful all swelled up with his baby. “As soon as possible.”

“That’s alright, then,” Toni says, turning to smile at him. “In that case, I feel strangely optimistic about marriage. But I swear, pal, if you drop to one knee in front of all these people I’m going to put your face in the snow.”  
Steve laughs. “Don’t worry,” he assures her. “I’m not going to propose.”

Not yet, anyway. Steve’ll admit to himself that he’s been eyeing up wedding rings, doing window shopping when he gets the chance. The problem, of course, is that Steve definitely can’t afford the kind of ring Toni deserves. It’s not that he didn’t know she was wealthy before he found out she was Antonia Stark, but he hadn’t expected her to be quite as rich as she is. The Starks are a whole other level of rich and while Steve knows intellectually that Toni just isn’t the sort of girl who needs a million dollar ring to be happy, he’s still a little worried about it. Not that they’re at the ring-buying stage quite yet, anyway.

“But if I did,” he says cautiously, “who would I ask for your hand? I mean, your father is dead, right? Should I go to Mr. Hogan?”

“Happy?” Toni asks. She blinks, her mouth doing a funny twitch. “Why would you go to him?”

“Well,” Steve says, her expression making him tread cautiously. “He is the CEO of your company, isn’t he?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Toni says, still making that face, like she wants to laugh but doesn’t want to offend him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, terribly confused now at both the turn of phrase and the smile she’s wearing.

“Oh, Steve,” Toni says, starting to laugh. “That’s all propaganda. If you go to Happy, I’m sure he’d be delighted to have you ask him, but he doesn’t really run the company. Pepper does, his wife.”

“His wife?” Steve asks, shocked. “A woman runs your company? A woman runs the largest weapons contractor in the country? And everyone is just okay with that?”

“Of course not,” Toni says, smiling like she’s played the best joke ever on him. “That’s why Happy is there. He goes to all the meetings, shows up at all the right events, poses for all the pictures, but he’s never made a business decision in his life. Everyone on the board knows it’s a hoax, but Pepper’s the one that brought us through the post-war slump without killing the company, so they know she does good work. As long as she keeps doing what she’s doing, no one is going to say anything.”

“That’s bizarre,” Steve tells her seriously. “Your whole life is bizarre. Every time I think you can’t possibly have any more absurd secrets, you just keep coming out with more. Next thing you know, you’re probably going to tell me you were actually training elephants in the Sahara during the war.”

“Elephants don’t live in the Sahara,” Tony tells him at once, but her smile is gone at once. Instead, she looks vulnerable “There is something, though, something I should tell you. I-”

And that, of course, is when the photographer finds them. Now, Steve’s not a violent person by nature, but he is a fully-trained army commando and he has no compunction about standing up for those who can’t do it themselves. Not that he thinks Toni can’t stick up for herself, but the look on her face just then, in the instant before her expression transforms into her for-the-public mask, is what drives Steve over the edge. He doesn’t even mean to break the man’s camera, but, well, it’s in front of his face and that’s where Steve’s fist lands. It’s regrettable, he tells himself and also tells the man, who takes one look at the frightful grimace Steve is wearing and gets lost, taking his broken camera and his broken nose with him. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Toni tells him. “I’ve had photographers following me my whole life.”

“He was scaring the penguins,” Steve says without really even knowing why, except that he wants to make her smile. It works and a little bit of the tension in Steve’s gut eases at the sight of it.

“And you have the nerve to call me bizarre,” Toni comments, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the penguins, down the walkway toward the white bear enclosure.

“You are,” Steve says. “But I guess maybe I am, too, just a little.” And that, Steve thinks, is exactly why they’re so good for each other. He wants to ask her what she was going to say before the photographer interrupted them, but the look in her eyes is still steely and he knows that whatever it was, it’s going to have to wait.

 

The subject doesn’t come up again, despite Steve’s best efforts to initiate the conversation a number of times. Toni’s a master at avoidance when she wants to be, though and Steve doesn’t find out whatever the secret is any time in their next month of dates. Before Steve even knows it, it’s April and the snow is almost completely gone and he still doesn’t know what Toni was going to say that day. He tells himself it doesn’t matter, that nothing Toni might have to tell him will change their relationship, and while that’s true, he still desperately wants to know. 

Apart from that, though, their dates continue to go grandly. They mostly continue to go on the kind of dates Steve can afford to pay for, but occasionally Toni talks him into going someplace fancier. Steve always feels bad when she pays for things, but her laughing in his face about these feelings does tend to neutralize them.

One evening in late April, Toni talks Steve into going out for dinner to a fancy restaurant Steve would never in a million years hope to be able to afford. It’s a tiny place, exclusive enough that no one will be pointing a camera at them no matter how scandalous Toni decides to be. Steve shows up ten minutes early, and as usual when he meets her anywhere, Toni is at least ten minutes late. 

“Sorry,” she says, when she finally gets there. Steve stands, glad to have something to do with himself after twenty minutes of sitting alone besides avoiding the pitying looks from other customers who think he’s been stood up. “Got caught up, you know how it is.”

“I do,” Steve agrees vaguely, staring at her. It’s all part of being with Toni, he knows that. He gets the genius and the humor and the devastatingly sweet woman she is hidden inside, but he also gets the tardiness, the attitude, the vulgarity; it’s a package deal. And tonight, he also gets skin.

“You look-” he stops short, unable to think of a word to describe how she looks. She’s wearing a dress, the most covering gown Steve’s ever seen her in, yet at the same time, the most revealing. It’s black, this dress, with a neckline that comes up high on her throat and sleeves that flow down the whole way to her wrists. Her neck is covered and her hemline extends down to the floor, effectively covering her ankles. But the thing is, the things is, it’s see-through. Steve doesn’t know what kind of material this dress is made of, but it’s completely see-through, and what she’s wearing underneath is so scandalously short it could be a bathing suit. 

“Are you going to pull my chair out for me or what, pal?” Toni says, bringing Steve out of his reverie. 

“Sorry,” he says and moves to get her chair. “It’s just, you look stunning.”

“Good enough to eat?” Toni asks, taking her seat. “Because let me tell you right now, Steve, tonight, I’m on the desert menu.”

“Oh God.” Steve all but falls into his own chair across from her. “You mean-?”

“I’m giving you permission to ravish me after dinner,” Toni says, completely straight-faced. “For hours, even. I’ve got a place we can go.”

Steve’s not sure what they talk about during dinner or even what he eats. He’s too distracted the whole time, staring at her, committing the dress and the skin revealed underneath to his memory. He’s going to draw her like this later, add it to the secret sketchbook he keeps hidden under his bed that’s full of nothing but drawings of Toni. 

Eventually, Toni takes pity on him and signals for the check. “Okay,” she says after she’s paid. Steve thinks he might get looks about letting his date pay, but he’s too anxious and excited to even really notice, especially when Toni pulls a slip of paper out of God knows where. “Meet me here in fifteen minutes.” Then she stands, gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and walks out.

 

It takes Steve a full minute to get over staring at her backside as she leaves. When he does engage his brain again, he looks at the paper in his hand. It’s an address, one Steve hasn’t heard of specifically before but thinks it’s a few streets away. It’s odd, since he knows that’s not where Toni lives. Everyone and their mother knows Toni Stark lives in Stark Mansion on Fifth Avenue.

Since he’s only got fifteen minutes to be where he needs to be and doesn’t exactly know the area, Steve splurges on a taxi. The driver knows the exact building Steve wants, as taxi drivers are generally wont to do. The building isn’t especially large or impressive, just a regular brick structure on a street full of buildings just like it. Steve takes the stairs two at a time until he gets to the specified apartment on the fifth floor. He knocks, holding his breath until Toni opens the door.

It’s a good thing no one else is in the hall, because they’re liable to be arrested for public indecency, what with the way Toni is dressed. She’s got a white silk blouse on, nothing too scandalous, except for the way it’s paired with nothing but a set of matching panties to cover her lower half.

“Fuck,” Steve swears, ushering her backward into the apartment and getting the door closed. After that, he pretty much can’t help himself, has to sweep her into an embrace and kiss her. The last time he did this was almost two years ago, but he’s too eager and turned on to be nervous. He just goes for it, getting his tongue inside her mouth as soon as possible and feeling her reciprocate. He gets her backed up against the closed door, presses his body against hers and lets himself sink deeper into the kiss.

When they absolutely have to break apart for breath, Steve pants wetly into the top of her hair while she clings to his shirt. “The bedroom is the door on the left,” she tells him.

“Great,” Steve says and picks her up. She’s not light, not exactly, but Steve manages just fine, especially once she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He gets them into the bedroom and lays her down on the bed. Then he strips quickly. He doesn’t make a show of it, has waited too long for that, and besides, he’d probably get nervous and then things would get weird. Instead, he just gets his clothes off and goes for her shirt.

“Wait,” she says, grabbing his hand. “Don’t. I wanna leave my shirt on.”

It’s a pity, because Steve really wants to get his hands on her breasts, but he accepts this and takes what he can get, getting her out of her panties. Then, he does what he’s been dreaming about, spreads her legs and gets a good look. She’s gorgeous and she tastes like a dream when he gets his mouth on her, familiar and new all at the same time. He uses all the tricks Annie taught him, kisses and licks and bites when he thinks she can take it. He leaves a bite mark on her inner thigh that he knows will bruise, sucks on her clitoris, firms his tongue up and gets it inside her. He keeps going until she’s a whining, quivering mess, yanking on his hair to get him up.

“My God,” she pants as he crawls up to face her. She kisses him, even though he’s got her juices running down his chin, and he loves her for that. “Let me do something for you. Do you want my mouth or my cunt?”

“Guh,” Steve manages, fighting off a full-body shudder. He can’t, he just can’t decide something like that, not with the taste of her still in his mouth and the feel of her body under him. “Let me fuck you,” he decides at last. 

Obligingly, she spreads her legs for him again. He kisses her as he fingers her and she opens for him easily, still relaxed from his mouth. She arches beautifully, too, when he curves his fingers forward and scratches lightly. It’s not long at all before she’s writhing again and demanding he get inside her. So he does, takes his cock in hand, slicks himself up with his slippery fingers and eases himself inside. She’s still tight enough that he can’t even wait to give her a moment, can’t help but thrusting forward as deep as he can.

His rhythm is terrible, but Toni cries out every time he pushes into her, arches around him and takes him in. He fucks her quick and hard, unable to help himself. It’s been so long and she feels so good, sounds so good. He can’t touch her breasts, but he can feel them pressed up against him, under him. She’s so tight and so wet and he just-. 

He loses it quickly.

Afterward, after they’re done panting into each other’s skin and Steve’s delicately withdrawn from her body, Toni looks at him, hair a wreck and face still flushed and says, “I can’t stay.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, disappointed but not surprised. She does have responsibilities, after all, even if she won’t tell him what those responsibilities are. Then he adds, “I love you,” because he thinks she needs to know.

“Me, too,” she says, which from a woman so closed-lipped is practically a full-hearted confession.

They get up, get dressed and part ways. He kisses her at the door and then takes a taxi back to his apartment. He’s quiet when he gets into his place, because he thinks Bucky is probably already asleep in his own room. Steve showers, brushes his teeth and falls into bed, replaying the night over and over in his head.

 

The knocking comes when Steve is very nearly asleep. He jerks fully awake almost instantly, but it takes him a second to realize the knocking is coming from his front door. It’s a loud pounding, loud enough to wake the dead and certainly loud enough to wake all of Steve’s neighbors. He doesn’t even bother with proper clothes, just bolts out of his room and to the door in his t-shirt and underpants. There’s obviously no time to check the peep hole; whoever is on the other side is either in a hurry or in distress. Or both. Steve just yanks the door open, dislodging whoever is on the other side. It’s only instinct that has him catching her before she falls, and then he’s looking down into the tear-stained face of Toni Stark.

“Steve, please, they’ve taken him!” she says at once, too loudly and with a definite edge of panic. “I was only gone for a few hours and my security- oh God, Steve, they’ve taken him, he’s gone! You have to help me, you have to call Fury! I can’t-”

“Toni,” Steve interrupts, maneuvering her into the apartment so he can shut the door, hoping none of the neighbors get any ideas about calling the cops about the noise. “What are you talking about?”

“-believe they got through her like that,” Toni keeps going, either not noticing or not caring about his words. “Natasha’s the best and they got through her and took him! Do you know what that means? It means they have someone better than her and she’s the goddamn best! You have to call Fury, Steve, please! God, he never takes my calls, but we need him, Steve. We need a fucking army, it’s like the Lindbergh thing all over again! What are we-”

“Toni!” Steve yells and she finally stops talking, looks up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“They’ve kidnapped Grant, Steve! They’ve taken our son!”


	10. Chapter 10

Steve sits down hard, almost accidentally, very nearly missing the couch.

“Our what?” he asks. He can hear the shaking in his own voice.

“Our son,” Toni repeats. “Grant. He’s not even a year old, Steve, and he’s all alone. They left a fucking note! A note, can you believe that?”

“Wait,” Steve says, brain not quite able to keep up. He reaches out a hand to pull her down beside him, needing to get a few questions answered before she starts back up again. “We have a son? But how? We, we only just-”

“From before,” Toni says. “During the war, when Natasha and I came to your camp outside of Paris.”

“Annie?” Steve says, putting the pieces together. “No, that can’t be right. She was shot!”

“Keep up, Steve!” Toni all but shouts at him, standing up and pacing a few steps away. “Do you need me to fucking prove it?” Her hands fly to her shirt and she starts unbuttoning it.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bucky asks, standing in the doorway of his room, looking confused.

“Great!” Toni says pissily. “Just what we need, more gawkers.” She gets her shirt undone and lets it fall open, revealing a white satin brassiere covering the breasts Steve hadn’t been allowed to touch earlier and underneath that, along the right side of her ribs, what looks startlingly like a healed-over gunshot wound. 

“Are you satisfied, now?” she asks. “Do I have to prove myself to the Pope, too, or can we get back to the fact that our son has been kidnapped?”

“Right,” Steve says, snapping into commando mode. In the back of his mind, he’s thinking, my son, I have a son, Toni is Annie, she’s not dead and we have a son, but the front of his mind has been completely given over to the problem at hand. “Tell me what happened exactly.”

“You know what happened,” she says angrily. “We went out for dinner, I let you fuck me and when I got home, Grant was gone and Natasha was unconscious.”

“Natasha is Nell?” Steve cuts in. Toni nods.

“Is she okay?” Bucky asks.

“She’s fine,” Toni insists. “She probably won’t be able to talk for a while, but it’s not like her voice could get any rougher anyway.”

“You mentioned a note,” Steve says, bringing her attention back to him. “Do you have it with you?”

Toni nods and fishes in the pocket of her slacks for it. She hands it over and Steve carefully unfolds it. It’s not much, just a piece of paper with the words, “Will return baby for $500,000. Will telephone.”

“Why would they call?” Toni asks desperately. “The telephone network isn’t secure. They’re- they’re idiots. Oh, God, our baby has been kidnapped by idiots.”

“Focus, Toni,” Steve says, standing and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt the baby?”

“No one even knows about him,” Toni says. “He’s been under wraps his whole life. I never even take him outside; Natasha does and no one knows who she is either.”

“Okay,” Steve says, considering this. “Who all knows about him besides you and Natasha?”

“Pepper, Happy, my butler Jarvis and a few Swiss nuns from the convent where he was born. Oh, and Fury.”

“Fury knows?” Steve asks, amazed at how many people in his life were keeping this secret from him. “How do you know Fury?” 

“I worked for him in the war,” Toni says dismissively. “Can we get back on task here? Our son is missing!” 

“I know,” Steve says. “I know. Just calm down. We’re going to make a plan and we’re going to get him back, I promise you. Bucky,” here he turns to his friend. “Go across the street and see if the baker will let you in. Pay him whatever he asks. We need to tell Fury about this, try to get his help. Toni, do you know the number?”

Toni recites it to Bucky, who nods and goes into his room to throw on pants and grab his jacket. Then he’s out the door, leaving Steve alone in the apartment with Toni, who’s shaking slightly.

“Hey,” Steve says, pulling her close. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get ahold of Fury and he’s going to help us.”

“He hates me, Steve,” Toni says miserably, burying her face in his chest. “God, I never should have been so annoying to him. I just thought, it was funny, because he gets so mad and then the veins in his forehead just throb, you know? But what if he won’t help us now?”

“He’ll help us,” Steve says, sure of it. “He owes me after that Ladies Aid dinner.”

Toni snorts out a laugh that might be actually be a sob and Steve kisses her head. As he’s holding her, waiting for Bucky to come back with news, he tries to think of a plan. He’s never dealt with a situation like this, never had to plan something this close to home. He’s still having a hard time believing he’s got a son somewhere out there and that his son is in danger. He puts it to the back of his mind, though, can’t afford to think of it. He’s got a plan to make.

“Is someone at your house?” Steve asks. “If the kidnapper is going to call, someone is going to need to be there to answer.”

“Jarvis and Pepper are,” Toni says. “They’re looking after Natasha.”

“How did they attack Natasha?” Steve asks, momentarily distracted.

“We think they strangled her with some kind of garrote, judging from the marks on her neck, but until she wakes up, we won’t know for sure what happened. She was barely breathing when I found her.”

Steve files this information away for later. “Is there a way to track a telephone call?” he asks. He’s not very familiar with the telephone network, but Toni had said earlier that it’s not secure. “Could we tell where the call is being made from?”

“Fury could,” Toni says with certainty. “I don’t have the resources, but Fury does that all the time. Hell, I know for a fact he’s been tapping my phone since before the war, the paranoid bastard.”

“Good,” Steve says. “Perfect. In that case, we’ll just wait for the call and then try to track it.”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Toni protests. “If they’re good enough to get past Natasha, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to use an insecure method of communication. They could just use letters, like in the Lindbergh kidnapping.”

“That’s why it might be a trap,” Steve warns. “But we can’t risk it; we have to try to get them that way first, before we do anything else.”

The door slams open to reveal Bucky, out of breath from the dash up the stairs. Panting, he says, “Fury said to go back to the manor. He’s sending the plane.”

“The plane?” Steve asks. “He’s got an airplane? Where’s he going to land it?”

“The manor has a landing strip on the roof,” Toni says quickly. “Come on!” She grabs Steve’s hand and practically drags him over to the door.

“Wait!” Steve says, resisting. “I have to get dressed first.”

“You have two minutes,” Toni says impatiently. “Then I’m leaving without you.”

Steve’s never dressed quicker in his life. He also grabs his gun from the bedside table and tucks it into the back of his pants, just in case.

Toni’s fancy car is idling on the street outside of the apartment building. Bucky takes the front seat so Toni and Steve can sit together in the back. Steve wants to be near her now more than ever. 

“Let’s go, Happy,” Toni says as soon as the doors are shut. “Floor it.”

“Happy?” Bucky asks from the front. “You’re Happy Hogan? Aren’t you the CEO of Stark Industries? What are you doing driving Toni around?”

“He’s not really the CEO,” Toni says absently.

“It’s a long story,” Steve adds.

Toni frets the entire way to the manor. She’s losing her cool, Steve can tell, and he really needs her to be level-headed right now, for Grant’s sake. She definitely has the ability to be graceful under pressure, as Steve saw in the Battle for Paris. If only he had a way to distract her now, keep her from working herself up too much to be any use.

“Tell me about Grant,” Steve says softly, aware that Bucky and Happy are in the front.

The look she gives him is incredulous. “Is now really the time for that?” she asks. “That can wait, Steve. We should be, I don’t know, going over our strategy again or something.”

“No,” Steve shakes his head. He takes her hand in his. “Trust me, you need to be distracted right now. This kind of operation is all hurry up and wait and it’s only going to mess with your head if you overanalyze the plan.”

“I know that,” she hisses. “I was undercover for four years during the war, you think I don’t know how it goes?”

She tries to jerk her hand away, but Steve doesn’t let go. “Then you should know to trust the man with a plan,” he tells her. “I’m the Captain for a reason, Toni. Trust me.”

“I do,” she says, voice breaking on the words. “It’s just, this is different, you know? This is our son.”

“Tell me about him,” Steve repeats. “How old is he?”

“He’ll be a year on May 8,” Toni tells him.

Steve smiles at the thought. “Born on VE day, huh? Well, how about that. And you named him Grant? I didn’t think I told her, uh, you, what my middle initial stands for, but surely that wasn’t a coincidence.”

“I know everything about you, Steve,” she whispers. “You were my mark.”

“What?” Steve asks, confused. 

“I was a spy,” Toni explains, sounding half guilty, half impatient. “You do know what that means, right? I wasn’t in the forest outside of Paris by accident. Natasha and I were assigned to find your camp and get in with you guys, get to know all your secrets.”

“No, but, wait,” Steve says, trying to comprehend this. He’s only known Toni was Annie for less than half an hour now and he’s been so busy this whole time focusing on Grant that he hasn’t even given any thought to what that meant. Toni was a spy. She lied to him the whole time they were in France together. She could still be lying to him. “How much was real? Was any of it? Was the whole time we were together just one big lie to get me into bed?”

“No!” Toni insists. “It’s not like that. I wasn’t supposed to seduce you- that just happened. Only little things were lies. Almost everything I told you about myself was the truth, even my name! My mother used to call me Annie, before she died.”

“But you were still there on a mission.” Steve knows it’s a stupid thing to be hurt about, especially because he believes her about everything else. He doesn’t doubt her feelings toward him. If they’d only been together those few weeks in France, it would be different now, but they’ve had months to get to know each other, months to fall in love again.

“So were you,” Toni points out. “You’re making it sound like it was something terrible, like I was working for the Krauts or something. It wasn’t like that. I was working for Fury, same as you, just with a different skill set.”

“And what would that skill set be?” Steve asks, warily.

“I was a distraction,” Toni says, smiling wryly. “You know how distracting I can be, once I get going. Natasha was doing all the important work all over Europe, I was just there to keep people from looking too closely at her. We reported back to Fury, probably more directly than you did. Who do you think told him you were ready for your captain’s bars?”

“Oh,” Steve says, mulling this all over. “That’s, uh, that’s not what I thought you were going to say. What about after Paris? Where did you go then?”

“Switzerland,” Toni says, wrinkling her nose at the thought. “I couldn’t come back stateside with a bullet wound, not with how the tabloids follow me around. So I went and stayed in the mountains and when I found out I was pregnant I decided to just stay there until I had the baby, then I’d rejoin the fight. But by the time Grant was born, the war was over.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asks. It’s the question he most wants to know: why the lies? During the war, sure, it was all hush-hush, but why hadn’t she told him any of this in the last few months they’ve been seeing each other. 

“I was, uh, kinda scared, you know?” Toni admits. “Most guys, they say, ‘What happens in Europe stays in Europe,’ even if what happened was some French slut had your bastard child. But then we got to know each other again and I’ve been trying to work myself up to telling you for a while now. I tried at the zoo, remember?”

“Right,” Steve says, remembering the incident. “As soon as we get Grant back, let’s get married, okay? He needs a father.” He doesn’t say, ‘He needs to be legitimized,’ but he figures that goes unspoken. No son of his is going to grow up with the stigma of being born out of wedlock. Also, you know, Steve sort of really loves his son’s mother.

They arrive at the manor then and Toni gets antsy again. Steve’s never been here before and is awed and dismayed at how big the place is. They have to wait for Happy to go open the big iron gates, with Toni tapping her fingers impatiently on her thighs the entire time. They’re barely parked before she throws the door open and bolts for the front door. Steve follows after her, Bucky right on his tail and Happy behind that, going a bit slower thanks to his war wound. 

The inside of the manor is just as impressive as the outside, but Steve’s distracted by the group gathered in the parlor just off the main hall. There’s a redhead and an older man standing worriedly over another redhead on the sofa. The girl on the couch is presumably Nell, or rather Natasha, with makeshift bandages all around her neck and ice held over that. She’s gives Toni an awkward one-armed hug with the hand that’s not holding the ice and Toni whispers something to her that Steve can’t hear. 

Toni straightens up after a minute. “Steve, Bucky, this is Pepper, Jarvis, and Natasha, you know her as Nell.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, miss,” Steve says to Natasha and Bucky nods frantically from his spot behind him.

She nods stiffly at them.

“Right, enough of that crap,” Toni says, rushing back over to Steve and starting to pull him from the room. “Fury’s sending the plane,” she says to the room at large. “Steve and I are going to the roof to wait. Listen for the phone. If it rings, I’d better be the first person to know, got it?”

“We’ll come get you,” Pepper assures her. “Just go clear the landing strip.”

They run together up the main stairs in the entrance hall, Toni leading the way. Once they’re on the second level, she turns left and leads him down a hallway to another set of stairs, which they climb. They’re on the third and final floor, then, and Steve’s just wondering how they’re going to get to the roof from here when Toni pulls him over to a large window and throws it open.

“Come on,” she says, climbing out the window. “It’s this way.”

“This seems unsafe,” Steve says, climbing after her. The window opens onto a tiny ledge with an even tinier ladder leading up to the roof. 

“Suck it up,” Toni tells him. She takes the little steps two at a time, which makes Steve clench his teeth with anxiety, but she apparently knows what she’s doing because she makes it up just fine. Steve climbs at a more careful pace, aware that his feet are much larger than hers and that much more likely to slip off the steps.

When Steve emerges over the top of the roof, he sees the problem, the reason they need to clear the space: it’s covered from end to end with marbles. There are thousands of them. No plane would be able to land on this mess.

“What were you doing up here?” Steve asks, confused and incredulous. “Where did you even get this many marbles?”

“Grant likes them,” Toni says defensively. “I might have gotten a bit carried away.”

“You bring our son up here?” Steve asks, trying not to think about how high they are off the ground, how far it would be for a little boy to fall.

“It’s fine,” Toni says, waving his concern away. “I just put him in a harness and leash him to a pole. Now help me!” She indicates a couple of brooms and a large bucket near the edge of the roof. As quick as he can manage without slipping on any marbles, Steve grabs a broom and starts to sweep. They work well together, him and her, and with both of them it takes less than ten minutes to get the mess swept up. And just in time, too, because they’ve barely gotten all the marbles back into the bucket when Steve hears the rough noise of an engine and looks up.

It’s the sleekest plane Steve’s ever seen, gunmetal grey with smooth curves and a shiny finish.

“My God,” Steve says, looking at the beautiful thing. 

“I designed that,” Toni says over the noise. “Fastest plane in existence.”

Steve looks back at her, shocked. “You did?” he asks. “But you’re-” He cuts himself off just in time.

Toni knows, though, she always knows. “A woman?” she asks, laughing a bit. “Yeah, I am. I’m also one of the best mechanical engineers in the country, modestly speaking. Why do you think Fury puts up with me?”

It makes sense, Steve supposes. He’s heard rumors of her genius, but he hadn’t thought, hadn’t believed… Well, he’s certainly a believer now. But if Toni could do something like that, why on earth was she spending her days welding? “Why were you even at the factory?” Steve asks.

“I was taking a vacation,” Toni says. “Then I met a guy and decided to stay for a while.”

The plane comes in for a landing, forcing them to the very edge of the roof. It makes a quick, controlled stop, barely needing any space at all to decelerate, which is good, because the roof is large but it’s not that large. The propeller at the front is still spinning when the cockpit door opens and Fury himself steps out.

“Stark,” he says, sounding annoyed but looking sympathetic as the man ever does. “Captain.”

“Colonel,” Steve says. “We’ve got a situation.”

“So I’ve been told. Let’s get this clear: I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here, but I’m going to get this baby back if it’s the last goddamn thing I do. And when I do, you’re going to owe me, Stark, and owe me big. I’ve got lists upon lists of things you’re going to make me and I want them all on time and without your fucking attitude. And you, Captain, you’re going to be fundraising for years to come. Everyone understand?”

“Understood, sir,” Steve says at once. He’ll do anything, anything at all to get their son back.

Toni just nods.

“Right,” Fury says, fixing his coat collar dramatically. “Lead the way inside. We’ve got a baby to find.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but it was my birthday yesterday, so as a present to you guys, here's this late, late, late update. The next update will not take as long as this one, I swear, and it'll also take care of all these unanswered questions that this one just kind of leaves hanging.
> 
> warning in this chapter for violent threats against a baby. also, the phone number I picked for Toni's house was, as far as i can tell, a legit phone number in Manhattan during the forties, but like Steve, phone lines kind of confuse me, so...

The call doesn’t come right away, but they don’t have to wait that long for their first clue. No sooner are they down the main staircase, trailing after the fast-moving Fury with a dozen or so army technicians carrying equipment on their tail that Ms. Hogan- Pepper, that is- rushes up to them.

“Natasha has information!” she says quickly. “She wrote down who attacked her. She said there were a handful of them and the one that strangled her used a bowstring.”

“Oh, God!” Toni says, nearly tripping down the last few stairs. Steve manages to catch and steady her before she can go down, but it’s a near thing. “It can’t be! Not the Archer, I won’t believe it!”

“Impossible!” Fury barks, leading the way into the parlor where everyone else is still waiting. “The Archer has been off the grid for over a year, confirmed dead by at least a dozen sources.”

From her position on the sofa, Natasha raises an eyebrow, one that even Steve can tell clearly says ‘Your sources must be wrong.’

“Coulson,” Fury says and one of the men behind him steps forward.

“Sir?” he says.

“You’ve worked with the Archer before, so you’ll take point. Get this mess organized. I’m going for a smoke.”

“Yes, sir,” Coulson says, turning to the others and starting to give orders as Fury marches purposefully out of the room.

“And by smoke, he actually means try to force his way into my secret basement lab.” Toni says. “That son of a bitch! Happy, can you-?”

“On it, boss,” Happy says, trailing after Fury.

“Who’s the Archer?” Steve asks, once again feeling like he’s the only one out of the loop. Bucky, standing by Natasha’s side, looks equally confused, but apart from them, everyone else seems to be in the know.

“Only the best damn shot with a bow and arrow in existence,” Tony says, spitting the words. Steve can see her hands trembling minutely, so he reaches over and takes both of them in his. She continues like nothing happened, but Steve can tell by the way she relaxes slightly that she appreciates it. “Natasha and I had, well, let’s call it an encounter with the fucker in Europe. I have never seen anyone that fast on the draw.”

Natasha gives a pained little nod of agreement.

“What are we going to do?” Toni asks desperately. “That slimy circus-freak has our son!”

“Not to worry, Miss Stark,” Fury’s man Coulson says calmly. “We’ll get your boy back safe and sound.”

“Don’t placate me,” Toni snaps. “That’s not why I called you lot in.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve reminds her. He has to be sure of that, has to make her sure of that, if they’re going to get through this. “Just let these men do their jobs.” He guides her over to the sofa gently, trying not to make it seem like he’s guiding her, lest she protest and remain standing out of spite. Natasha makes room for her instantly and Toni sits without protest.

Steve watches out of the corner of his eye as Fury’s men, directed by Coulson, start unpacking boxes and boxes of equipment in the main hall, where the telephone is located. He’s certain they know what they’re doing, but he’s still nervous that they’re going to disrupt the call somehow and the kidnapper is going to hurt Grant in retaliation. His palms start to sweat at just the thought and he can’t even begin to imagine how Toni must feel. He can’t think like that, though, has to stay positive, because if he doesn’t, who will?

“Explain the equipment to me?” he asks Toni quietly, trying to distract them both and at the same time get more information. It’s vital that he have as much information as possible, because whether Fury likes it or not, Steve’s heading this expedition, and he’s pretty sure Toni’s not going to be willing to be left behind, either.

Toni assents and starts to explain. Most of it involves how telephones work, which Steve still doesn’t really understand, and therefore goes right over his head. He gets the gist though: somehow or other, by listening in on phones all over the city and at the central exchanges, Fury’s men will be able to tell the general vicinity of where the call came from, down to a few houses. Steve honestly hadn’t known Fury had that many men at his disposal and finds himself impressed despite the dire situation.

Steve manages to keep Toni talking and distracted while also coming up with a plan. Meanwhile, the men set up their equipment in the house and communicate via radio with men in other parts of the city. It takes them the better part of an hour to get ready, and it’s not a moment too soon, because barely ten minutes after everything’s all set, the phone rings. The house goes deadly silent and Fury appears out of nowhere to take charge again.

Toni answers the phone, despite Steve’s best efforts to dissuade her. The men have somehow managed to do something to split the line and make it play over the loudspeaker of their radio set so the whole room can hear both sides of the conversation.

“LOngacre 3,” Toni says, giving the telephone number and Steve’s proud of how cool and calm her voice is, despite what’s at stake. 

“You know what we want, Miss Stark,” says a surprisingly high-pitched voice. It takes Steve a moment to realize it’s a woman speaking. “Do you have the money?”

“Yes,” Toni says at once, but her voice still doesn’t waver. “You know I do. How do you want me to get it to you? Will you come here?”

“I don’t think so,” the woman on the other end says. “We’ll meet at a location of my choosing, at a time I designate. You come and you alone, or I’ll slit your baby’s throat before you can blink.”

“Where?” Toni says, and Steve can see the panic in her eyes. “Tell me where to meet you and I will.”

“The graveyard,” the other woman says. “You know the one. Meet at eight o’clock tonight. I’ll bring the baby, you bring the money.”

There’s a click of the woman disconnecting the call and Steve sees Toni lose her grip on the phone. He steps up quickly, takes the receiver from her gently and places it back in the cradle. 

“Did you get what you need?” Steve asks, looking to Fury.

“We’ll see,” Fury says shortly, turning to his men and beginning to give orders.

“Toni,” Steve says, getting her attention back from where she’s been staring at the wall in apparent shock. “Do you know who that was? What graveyard is she talking about?”

“That was the Archer,” Toni says, looking slowly up at him. Her eyes are wide and horrified. “She wants to meet at Trinity Church. She wants me to see my families’ graves before she kills by baby.”

“That is not going to happen,” Steve says fiercely, pulling her into a hug. “We are going to get him back. Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” she whispers. 

“Then trust that I will get him back. He is going to be okay.”

“Okay,” she says quietly. Steve can tell she doesn’t believe it, won’t believe it until she’s got the boy back in her arms.

“Wait,” Steve hears Bucky ask from behind them. “The Archer is a woman? Just what kind of an encounter did you have with this woman in Europe?”

“The kind that ended in tears and blood,” Toni says viciously from Steve’s arms. “And so help me God, this time I’m going to kill the bitch!”

“Of that, Miss Stark,” Fury cuts in, “I must disagree. It would be best for all involved if we took the Archer into custody, and since this is my op, that’s how we’re going to play it. Captain, we have an address for you.”

“Excellent,” Steve says, falling back into Captain mode. He gives Toni one last squeeze, then releases her to cross to where Fury’s got a map spread out on the hall table. 

“This is the general area,” Fury says, indicating a spot about an hour’s drive outside the city. “It could be any one of these ten houses. There are likely hostages inside the house in question. The graveyard is almost definitely a trap, so the baby will probably be in the house at the time of the exchange, despite the Archer’s promises. Your objective is to take the area and secure all the houses with the fewest civilian casualties possible.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve says at once, studying the map, considering the best way to get there from here. “Will we be taking the plane?”

“Indeed you will, Captain,” Fury says, glaring at Steve critically with his good eye. “I hope your parachuting skills haven’t gotten rusty.”

 

“You know,” Bucky says over the noise of the plane. “I feel like ever since that vixen showed up on our door, nothing makes sense anymore.”

“I know what you mean,” Steve agrees, distractedly. He can’t help but worry, both about Grant and about Toni, who at this very moment is meeting with the deadly Archer at Trinity Church, probably walking into a trap. They’d shared a passionate kiss before they’d parted, but it hadn’t made it any easier to leave her behind, see her go off on another mission. Steve would have preferred to work with her, have her by his side so they could watch each other’s backs, but this is the best option, strategy-wise. She has to be the one in the cemetery and Steve has to be the one leading the rescue mission. One of them will come home with their baby tonight, there’s no other option. 

“Get yourselves ready,” Steve calls to the assembled men in the plane with them. It had taken them a while to get to the right altitude for the jump, but the area is right for it, isolated enough from the city that no one should land on anything important like, say, a building. Surprise is the key, which is why they’re doing it like this. It’s Steve, Bucky, five of Fury’s agents and Natasha, who had insisted on coming along, despite her injury. Steve hadn’t been able to dissuade her and Bucky seems enamored of her in general, willing to allow her anything she desires, so along she came, despite even Fury’s misgivings. Altogether, there are only eight of them, because that’s how many the plane would fit. Fury’s sending back-up by truck, but they’ll have to wait on advancing unless they want to tip off the kidnappers. What they have now will be fine, Steve thinks, unless they encounter significant resistance. They’re all battle-hardened men, even Natasha, all have seen war and come through it mostly whole, but if they’re outnumbered too badly, there’s no hope. Of course, on the other hand, Steve doesn’t care what happens to himself, as long as they get the baby out. 

“Check your parachutes,” Steve calls as they near their destination. The plane isn’t anything like silent, but Steve’s almost positive the kidnappers won’t be expecting attack from the air. “Ready… and GO!”

Bucky’s the first one out the door, followed by Natasha, then the agents, then Steve last. The jump is just as rough as the ones in Europe, though no one’s firing at him this time. He lands solid, not quite on his feet but not completely off them, either. Everyone else must have had just a successful jump, because they’re all standing and ready to go by the time he gets his chute off. 

It’s hand signals from here on out, so he makes the motions, dividing them up into pairs to take the houses in turns. It’ll take a while to secure them all, but as long as they do it quietly, it should work out. Steve, with Bucky at his side, takes the last house on the street, the large one with painted window frames. They break the window to get it, knowing that it’ll be quieter at least than breaking down the door. They could have picked the lock, but that would take too much time and Steve’s not willing to risk them being caught outside with no cover. 

The house is dark inside and just as fancy as the outside would suggest. Steve strains his ears, trying to hear any sound that a baby might be in the house. There’s no crying though. In fact, there’s no sound at all that Steve can hear. Carefully, they make their way down the front hall, checking around corners before they enter a room. It’s all coming back to Steve, easier than he would have imagined. He’s ready, he knows what he has to do and he’s willing to do it. 

“Let’s split up,” Steve breathes to Bucky when they reach the staircase. “I’ll take the upstairs.”

Bucky nods and departs carefully down another hall on the ground floor. Steve watches him go, then begins to climb, careful to test each step before he puts his full weight on it, not willing to risk one of them squeaking and giving him away. At the top of the stairs, he has to make a decision of which way to follow the staircase- left or right. He holds his breath, says a quick prayer and picks left.

Steve mentally checks off doors as he goes, securing each room and moving on. His baby is in none of them. He’s very nearly to the end of the hallway and about to write off this direction as a bad choice when he hears it. It’s quiet, so quiet that he almost misses it, but coming from the very last room at the end of the hall, behind the closed doorway, is singing. It’s a lullaby, Steve thinks, and thanks Providence for leading him right. 

There’s no way to enter the closed room without opening the door, not unless Steve wants to go outside again and scale the house, which would take far too long. The only thing for it is to burst into the room and hope the element of surprise works in his favor. It’s a risk, but Steve hasn’t made his career on taking no chances. He braces himself, takes a deep breath, and kicks open the door.

Steve’s eyes zero in at once on the baby, safe and sound in a woman’s arms, but almost instantly dart away, checking the room for weapons of any kind. There aren’t any, no threats in this room apart from the woman herself, who’s holding his son like he’s something precious. Steve levels his own gun at her, because though she might seem harmless, that child does not belong to her and it’s just as likely she’s in on the kidnapping.

“Hand over the baby, miss,” Steve says calmly, and his gun doesn’t waver. “Give me the baby and no one will get hurt.”

She looks at him, eyes wide. Steve can see her arms tremble, see her clutch the baby tighter to her chest, uncertainty writ plain across her face. Then he sees her eyes travel past Steve, over his shoulder. He hears the click of a loaded gun being cocked a second too late. 

The barrel of the rifle is hard and insistent against the back of Steve’s head, but Steve doesn’t panic. He keeps his eyes on Grant, and slowly, carefully raises his hands.

“Drop the gun,” a voice from behind him says. It’s a male’s voice, cool and foreign. Not German, Steve’s heard enough of those to recognize one instantly, but not French, either. Norwegian, Steve would say, or something like it.

Steve’s got a contingency plan for situations like these. He won’t let his weapon be taken away from him, not when it’s up to him to rescue Grant. He’ll pretend, he thinks. Pretend to put his gun down, act compliant then surprise his captor with his quick reflexes. It’s not a good plan, but it’s the only one he’s got and it’s worked for him before in situations not unlike this, though of course a baby wasn’t at risk in those times. 

“And if you try anything, Captain Rogers,” the man continues. “I’ll shoot you somewhere nonvital, so you can bleed to death slowly as you can watch me kill your son.”

Torn, Steve hesitates. Whoever this man is, he knows the situation, knows things Steve hadn’t even known yesterday. He stalls, makes an aborted motion, trying to decide. Too long, it seems, because the man behind him all but shouts, “Gun down now!”

“I think that’s my line, pal.” 

Steve has never in his life been so glad to hear Bucky’s voice, not even on that battlefield in Germany when he’d though Bucky was a goner for sure. Slowly, but surely, the gun lowers from the back of Steve’s head. Steve whirls around at once, grabs the man’s gun and disarms him. 

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve says gratefully, breathing easier. He double-checks the man to make sure he doesn’t have any more weapons on him, then leaves him to Bucky’s mercy and gun, and crosses the room. The woman holding Grant takes a terrified step backward, but holds up a hand to calm her. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says slowly and then, remembering the sweet lullaby, “and I’m not going to hurt the baby.”

He has to pry the child from her arms, but she lets Steve take him without any real struggle. Steve takes a good, hard look at the baby, takes in his large brown eyes, his black curls, his little fists, and clutches him to his chest. He doesn’t know how to hold a baby, not really, but closer is safer and that’s all he’s got. The woman before he collapses onto the floor and Steve’s instincts tell him she’s not a threat, so he turns back to his friend and the kidnapper.

“Who are you working for?” Steve asks fiercely. 

“A higher power,” the man answers instantly. His casual smirk reminds Steve of men gone crazy after too long in the trenches. There’s something not quite right about the gleam in his eyes. Steve’s not going to get anything out of him, not right now, anyway, so he’ll leave it to Fury to see what he can do. Grant’s safe and that’s what matters. There’s a nagging worry about Toni in the back of his mind, but he has to secure this situation first, before he can even deal with that one.

“Is the house secure?” Steve asks Bucky, who nods.

“Yes, sir,” he says. “The boys just reported back to me. This house and four others are secure. Fury’s backup should be arriving soon to take over. In the meantime, we’re working to secure the other houses.”

The pounding of feet on the stairs makes Steve wince, conscious that for all Bucky’s claims to the contrary, there still may be a rogue presence lurking somewhere in the house, and if there is, they’ve definitely given themselves away by now. 

“Captain,” a voice calls from the hall. “There’s news from the radio!”

“Right,” Steve says, forcing himself to breath through his fear. No matter what happens now, his boy is in his arms, not even crying, recognizing maybe the same sense of rightness that Steve feels when he holds the child. No matter what the news is, this boy will be safe soon.

“Get him out of here,” Steve instructs Bucky, who nods and maneuvers the man up and out of the room, gun at his back. Two of Fury’s men enter. Steve indicates the fallen woman behind him to one of them and turns to the other, schooling his face into something neutral. “What news?”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” the man says softly. “All I know is that there were shots fired in the cemetery. Someone’s been shot.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter, then just the epilogue left! um, sorry if this accidentally raises more questions. I'm thinking of doing a couple of codas after this, maybe even a sequel if I can latch onto some kind of new plot. we'll see...
> 
> warnings in this chapter for implied underage and more violence threatened toward children

“My God,” Steve says, eyeing Toni as she slumps down into her chair. “You’ll be the death of me, Miss Stark.”

Toni’s eyes fly open and she stands, very nearly tripping over her feet in her haste to get to him. “Grant!” she cries, making grabby hands. Steve curses, because he’d only just gotten the boy to stop crying and go to sleep, frightened as he was at the sound of the fancy airplane his mother designed, and now she’ll have woken him up again. 

Sure enough, Grant’s eyes fly open and he takes a deep breath before letting out an ear-piercing wail. 

“Hush, now,” Toni says, taking him from Steve and cradling him in her arms. “Oh, my baby, I’m so glad you’re okay!” She lifts him up to the light, checks him over for injury as thoroughly as any mama bear would her cub. When she’s sure he’s alright, she holds him close, kisses his face repeatedly, wipes his little tears away. Steve thinks he sees tears in her eyes, as well.

“Thank you so much, Steve,” she says over Grant’s continued cries. She’s got both arms around the boy, rocking him gently, but she leans into Steve, rests her head against his shoulder, and Steve puts his arms around her, pulls her close. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do,” Steve says, holding on to his family for dear life. He knows how much it means to her, because it means the same to him. He’s never had a family, not like this, but this woman and this child, they’re his and they’re safe. 

They stand together for a long time like that. Steve had been so worried when he’d heard someone had been shot in the graveyard, had seen his life flash before his eyes, all the experience he’d ever had with the woman he loves and all the times he wouldn’t get to have at all if she was killed trying to get their son back. He’d thought about Grant, too, the poor boy in his arms who would never get to see his mother again. It had been the worst seven minutes of Steve’s life, and the news that Toni was perfectly fine and alright had been the best thing he could ever remember hearing.

“I love you,” Steve tells her. He’s said it before, after they slept together, but this is different. He almost lost her today, thought for a terrible seven minutes that she was dead, and he’s not going to let her out of his sight without her knowing how much he loves her. “And Grant, too. I meant it when I said we should get married. Let’s do it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Toni asks, laughing a little. Grant’s crying has calmed a bit, sounds less hysterical now. “I’m not sure that’s workable. How about in a few months, once everything has calmed down?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees. “Pick a date. I’m free anytime.” He glances at their son, held safe between them. “Is he supposed to be crying like that still?” It hadn’t occurred to him when he was making these grand plans to marry Toni and raise this child together that he knows nothing about children. He’s willing to learn, of course, but he’s got a steep learning curve ahead of him. 

“Sometimes kids just need to cry,” Toni says, and for the first time, Steve can see what a wonderful mother she is. He knew before, knew that she would be, could tell from her desperation and love, but he hasn’t seen her with the boy until now. She doesn’t look mad or frustrated at the continued tears, just keeps rocking Grant slowly, lovingly. “And, to be fair, he has been with a stranger for the better part of the night. Did Fury find anything out about the woman that was looking after him?”

“The owner of the house,” Steve explains. “She was a hostage, same as him. Fury had kidnapper in an interrogation room, last I saw, separate from the Archer, both cuffed and guarded. I thought it seemed like a lot of security, but then I heard it took three men to take down the Archer after she shot Coulson. How is he, by the way?”

“He was lucky,” Toni says, looking over at the door to the man’s hospital room. “It was only a shoulder wound. He’s sleeping now, but the doctor said he’d be fine.”

“I’m glad,” Steve says, and he genuinely is. He doesn’t know Coulson well, but the man took a ricochet bullet trying to get Steve’s son back, so Steve at least owes him a heartfelt thanks. “I didn’t know the Archer even used guns. I thought, you know, she’d only shoot arrows.”

Toni shrugs. “She uses whatever she wants, I guess. When Natasha and I had our incident with her in France, she was using a German luger as a weapon of choice. Actually, come to think of it, I’m pretty sure it was a luger that shot me in Paris, if you know what I mean. That’s what the Swiss nuns said, anyway, though I’m not sure how they would know. They did know an awful lot about bullets for being nuns, though.” She tilts her head suddenly as though just thinking of something, then says, “You know, they’re calling lugers ‘Black Widow’ pistols now. Natasha thought that was hilarious when she found out.”

“Why would that be funny?” Steve asks, confused.

“Everyone’s got a past, Steve,” Toni says, shrugging. “Natasha’s is kind of bloody. When she was a girl in Russia, that’s how she killed her first husband: with a German Luger to the back of the head.”

Steve takes a moment to digest this, horrified, then something else occurs to him. “Wait,” he says, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Wait. Backtrack a minute. Are you saying that the Archer is the one who shot you when you were Annie?”

“Well, maybe,” Toni says, apparently unconcerned. “But I doubt it was on purpose. It was a pretty crowded battlefield, you know. Small world, though, huh?”

“Toni,” Steve says, exasperated. “Why didn’t you mention it before? Didn’t you think it was relevant?” 

“She threatened our son, Steve,” Toni says, very seriously. “It doesn’t matter what she’s done before that or what happened in Europe. She threatened our son and I’m going to kill her for it. I’m just waiting until Fury lets me in with her, then I’m going to strangle her with my bare hands.”

“I’m not sure if that’s encouraging or scary,” Steve says. He understands the impulse, though, but the man he wants to get at is the foreigner, the Norwegian with the dark greasy hair and the mad eyes. He knows Fury won’t let him event talk to the man, though, for fear of what Steve might try. “Shall we head over there? I can hold Grant if you want to go in and talk to the Archer, but I doubt Fury’s going to let you have a go at her.”

“Yeah,” Toni agrees. “Someone else should be coming to sit by Coulson’s bedside soon, then we can go see what we can see. But I’m telling you, as soon as Fury’s back’s turned, my hand are going to be around that freak’s neck.”

“Fair enough,” Steve says, knowing she won’t really do it. Toni would protect Grant at all costs, but now that the boy’s safe, she’s not going to murder someone out of spite. The Archer had better watch her nose, though, because even Fury won’t mind if Toni takes a swing at the woman.

 

Steve watches Toni through the glass of the interrogation room. She’s been in there a while, long enough for Grant to have gotten over missing her. He’d cried at first, upon being handed back to Steve, but Steve had imitated Toni’s rocking motions until he’d calmed. Toni’d given the kid a bottle at the hospital, so Steve knows he shouldn’t be hungry. She’d changed his diaper, too, which Steve hadn’t even considered when he’d been looking out for Grant before that. He thinks the kid might be tired and that’s why he’s being fussy, but to be perfectly honest, he’s not sure how to go about getting him down for a nap, let alone where he’d do it in this military base that apparently serves as Fury’s headquarters for his operations. He’s doing the best he can, though, rocking the baby and cooing at him, and keeping an eye on Toni while he’s at it, because he worries about her, even if the Archer is handcuffed to a table in there.

Actually, Steve would really like to know what they’ve been talking about in there for so long. He’d expected Toni to go in, take a swing and come back out, but that’s not how it went down at all. From Steve’s perspective, it looks like the Archer is crying, but he thinks that must be his imagination. No woman who’s brutal enough to threaten a child would cry over a little thing like being captured by law enforcement. 

As he’s watching, Toni stands, reaches out and takes one of the Archer’s cuffed hands. Steve stares, open-mouthed, unsure what could have brought on this complete about-face. Toni also offers the Archer her handkerchief, which the Archer takes between trembling fingers. She has to bend down toward the table to use it, what with her hands being cuffed, but she manages to dap at her eyes and wipe her nose. 

Huh, Steve thinks. Odd. When Toni finally comes out of the room over twenty minutes later, Steve’s ready with questions. 

“What was that all about?” he asks. Grant starts making grabby hands for his mother and making little “ma, ma, ma” sounds, so Steve kisses his head and hands him over. Toni gets him settled on her hip expertly.

“Yes, Stark, do tell,” a voice says from right behind Steve.

Steve’s too well trained to jump at a little thing like someone sneaking up behind him, but he still stiffens. He turns to see Fury watching them, glaring at Toni with the expression of almost-fond annoyance that he always wears when he looks at her. 

“Colonel,” she says, nodding to him. She looks smug, which is the best expression Steve’s seen on her all night. “I’ve got the keys to the goddamn kingdom and I’m willing to bargain for them. What, exactly, are you willing to do to know what I know?”

“I’ll lock you in the fucking brig if you’re not careful,” Fury says, annoyed. “Tell me what she said, Stark and do it now.”

“You know,” Toni says to Steve, “I can’t quite remember. It all happened so quickly and I was ever so scared to be in a room with such a bad woman.” She brings the free hand, the one that’s not holding Grant, up to her forehead and pretends to swoon.

“Stop it, Toni,” Steve says, laughing despite the seriousness of the situation. If Toni’s back to her usual mouthy self, Steve has no doubt that everything is going to be fine. “Tell us what she said.”

“Fine,” Toni says, straightening up and looking more serious. “I’m not feeling too kindly toward the woman, but she told me everything, so I’m willing to help her out. Her name is Clem and the man she was working for, that slimy Norwegian who organized the kidnapping, he goes by Loki. He’s a war profiteer, has a huge empire in Europe, but now that the war’s over, he’s losing money and looking to branch out. That’s what the ransom was about, helping him fund a new venture.”

“She ratted him out, just like that?” Fury says skeptically. “Something tells me there’s more to the story.”

“There is,” Toni agrees. “Because ‘Clem’ is short for Clementine Banner nee Barton, and her husband, Dr. Bruce Banner, one of the world’s leading nuclear physicists, has been held captive in a secure facility in the Alps since early 1943. If Clem’s a good little girl and does what Loki says, she gets to see him between missions. If not, he’ll kill them both and their ten year old daughter, who is being raised in an orphanage here in New York under the watchful eye of Loki’s thugs. Clem and Dr. Banner have been trying to come up with an escape plan for years now, but as Clem is a sniper and not a strategist and the doctor has no military training whatsoever, it’s been rather difficult to do in the rare moments they actually get to spend together.”

“Wait,” Steve says, looking back at the cuffed girl in the interrogation room. “She has a ten year old daughter? But she can’t be more than twenty-five.”

“Twenty-three, actually,” Toni says, mouth tightening with resigned anger. “Trust me, I’ve heard the whole story about that, too, and it’s not a pretty picture, but it’s not really relevant, either, so let’s not relive it, huh? The point is, Dr. Banner is still being held hostage, and with Loki having been captured, his second-in-command is probably going to be tightening down the fort. So, you know, if we’re going to do something about it, we’d better do it now. She says she'll help us break into the base where he's being held, use her insider information.”

“We’ll see,” Fury says, also staring at the Archer through the window. “This could all be a plot, Stark, and if anyone’s gullible enough to fall for it, it’s you. Let me see what Natasha has to say after talking with her, then we’ll start thinking about a new operation. And Captain,” he adds to Steve, already walking away. “If this does turn out to be true, you’d better start preparing yourself for a trip across the pond.”

 

“You’re not leaving me behind,” Toni says as Steve laces his combat boots. He hasn’t needed them in over a year now, but since he’ll shortly be leaving for his second rescue mission in just as many days, he figures it’s probably a good idea to get himself back into the habit, get his old gear ready again. Somehow or other Fury’s tricked him again, managed to get Steve to do his bidding, run his operations, just by appealing to Steve’s good nature. Steve would object, but how can he raise his son to be a good, moral individual if he himself refuses to do what he thinks is right, just because it’s a bit dangerous. He’s already decided that from now on, he’ll review Fury’s mission proposals carefully, attend any mission briefings, and then if he decides it’s a worthy cause, he’ll take the objective on. For the rest of the missions, the shady ones, Fury will have to find himself another man, one with fewer scruples. He’d resisted getting involved in anything to do with fighting after the war was over, but now he knows what’s really important. He’s going to make the world a safer place for his son, and he fully expects that Toni is willing to do the same.

“Of course not,” Steve says, patting the seat beside him. “I expect Natasha and Bucky are getting ready to go, too. Who’s watching Grant while we’re gone?” 

“Pepper,” Toni says at once. “And I’ve tripled the guard around the house, all men I’d trust with my life. No one will be kidnapping our child ever again. I’m working on better mechanical security, too, but of course that’ll take time.”

“Good,” Steve says firmly. “How’s Natasha’s throat?”

“Swollen,” Toni reports. “But Fury’s doctors seem to think she’ll recover her voice eventually. Until then, we’ll just have to make due with writing things down.”

“I doubt we’ll be doing much talking during the rescue, anyway,” Steve says. “And speaking of that, I know you had your heart set on Clem coming with us, but Fury’s deemed it too much of a risk. With Loki still not talking, we’ve only got her word to go on that any of this is true. It still might be a trap and Fury wants leverage, should we get into trouble.”

“I’ll give him leverage,” Toni mutters. “It’s not a trap. I’m a good judge of character, okay, and I’m the one whose kid she threatened. If I think she’s not a danger anymore, that should be fucking good enough.”

“I believe you,” Steve tells her. He’s still not ready to let the woman around Grant unsupervised, but he’d talked to her yesterday himself and came to the same conclusion Toni had: she was under duress and would never hurt a child if her own wasn’t at stake. He doesn’t think she really would have hurt Grant if Loki had ordered it, believes she would have found a way around it. It doesn’t make it right and it doesn’t make it better, but Steve knows the lengths he would go to in order to protect his kid and that’s why he knows where she’s coming from. “But it’s Fury’s opinion that matters, so we’ll be going without her.”

“Fine,” Toni says, “but Fury had better get something out of that bastard Loki while we’re gone, or else I’m going do something drastic.”

“I’m beginning to drastic is the only method you have,” Steve tells her teasingly.

“Flatterer,” she says, laughing a bit. “Now come with me to kiss Grant goodbye before we head out. I’ve got some quick upgrades to do on the plane and you’ve got a rescue to help plan.”

 

Actually, despite Fury’s misgivings about the whole thing, the rescue goes off better than expected. Being back on European soil makes Steve nervous, but he shakes it off and gets on with his job. The plane somehow got suped-up even more than the last time Steve road in it, but he’s done underestimating Toni about anything at this point. They make it the whole way across the Atlantic in it, in better time than Steve would ever have guessed possible. Once they’re in Europe, they meet up with the men Fury has there, because apparently the Colonel has men everyone these days. They don’t take an aerial assault this time, but instead some of Fury’s agents lead a tactical diversion disguised as a frontal assault while Steve’s team makes the actual assault on Loki’s base from behind. Steve hasn’t seen Toni or Natasha in action since they were Annie and Nell, so it’s quite a treat to see. He remembers being surprised then that prostitutes were that skilled in combat, but now that he knows who they are and what they did during the war, it all makes sense. Plus, Toni’s apparently been designing and firing weapons since she was a girl, so of course she’s got skills. Steve doesn’t let himself get distracted, but he’ll admit that the sight of Toni with a gun in her hand, aiming and firing like she was meant to do it will fuel fantasies for years to come. Not that he needs fantasies now that he can have her in his bed every night, but that’s beside the point.

They take the fortress with minimum casualties, which makes Steve suspicious, because their team is good, but they’re not superhuman. Toward the end of the fight, he gets the impression that the people holding the fort are giving up, retreating, escaping while they can, which doesn’t make sense on a lot of levels. He thinks it’s a trap, at first, advises caution, but they take the building and the prisoners in it without any self-destruct systems activating, no poisonous gas spraying them or bombs exploding. All it takes is Toni cutting the power as soon as possible and his men driving any of Loki’s people left in the building into corners to be detained. They also liberate the prisoners. Along with the Dr. Banner, they free over fifty other scientists and academics of all nationalities.

“Damn,” Toni says, watching as Fury’s agents round up prisoners and quarantine the newly liberated scientists. “Did that seem too easy to you?”

“It did,” Steve agrees. 

“Did you talk to Fury?” she asks.

Steve nods. “They haven’t managed to get anything out of Loki yet about who he’s working for. He just keeps saying there’s a higher power, but they’re starting to think he’s a madman. They rescued the girl from the orphanage, though, so that’s something.”

“He’s not a madman,” Toni says thoughtfully. “He’s not an idiot, not from what I’ve seen. He might be a little… off, but he knows what he’s doing, even if we don’t. He obviously needs money badly to keep his operations afloat, if the kidnapping was any indication. How do we know this wasn’t all some ploy, some trick to get us into a position he wants? Seems to me we might be doing his dirty work for him, getting rid of a huge drain on resources without him losing face to his investors. Can’t be cheap, keeping fifty scientists all caged up like that.”

“That’s true,” Steve says, considering it too. “You could be right. But even if you are, we did what we came here for. Think of all the people who can get back to their lives now. Besides, what can Loki do from a jail cell in America?”

“Good point,” Toni says. “And good job, I guess. We make a pretty good team, fighting side by side.”

“We should do it more often,” Steve says. “There’s always someone who needs help. Fury’s been trying to get me back on his staff ever since the war ended. I’ve been resisting, but if it’s the right missions for the right reasons...”

“It wouldn’t be boring,” Toni says agreeably. “I’d want to add Clem to the team, once Fury’s convinced she’s not going to turn on us. I know it sounds naive-”

“It doesn’t,” Steve cuts in. Steve believes Clem’s story, has heard it with his own two ears at this point, just like Natasha and Tony. Hell, even Fury has come around to the fact that she’s telling the truth. Steve thinks he’ll always hold a little bit of a grudge against Clem for threatening their son and he knows Toni probably will, too, but he knows why Toni wants to befriend her, as well. It couldn’t have been easy, doing all of those terrible things, knowing you were hurting good people while just trying to protect your family. Honestly, Clem can probably use all the friends she can get right now. And she’d be an asset to the team, Steve’s sure. “I like the idea, having a team of commandos again. It could be you, me, Bucky, Natasha and Clem. Plus Fury’s agents, obviously, when we need them.”

“I’d want to take some breaks now and then,” Toni warns, “give Grant a few more brothers and sisters, but in between that, sure, we could march in Fury’s band for a while.”

“You want more kids?” Steve asks hopefully. 

“Sure,” Toni says, waving a hand like it’s obvious. “But, uh, let’s get married first, okay? One kid out of wedlock is bad enough. I can just see my father rolling over in his grave right now.”

“Like I said,” Steve says, “you pick the date and I’ll meet you at the end of the aisle.”

Toni just smiles and grabs his hand. She’s a feisty one, Steve knows, not one who’ll ever just want to settle down, but hell, he doesn’t mind. He isn’t so keen on it, either. These past few days, he’s been reminded of how much he missed the action of war. He doesn’t war, not by any means, but there’ll always be someone out there doing injustice and if Steve can right those wrongs, make the world a little better for his son and other future children, well, why not? And that he gets to do it with Toni by his side and his friends old and new on his team, that’s all the better. First, though, before any of that, he’s going to marry his girl and start living his life. Everything since the war until now has just been preparation, but now, with his family and his fight for justice the world over, life is going to be good. For real this time.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it, the end of the road! Thanks so much for the wonderful comments and encouragement! This isn't where I thought I'd end up when I started this fic, but it is what it is lol. Like I said before, there may be some codas eventually, but until then, I'm just going to be happy that I've managed to finish another one of my many WIPs. Yay!

“Okay,” Toni reminds him. “If any reporters ask, we’ve totally been married this whole time.”

“I’ve got this,” Steve says, picking Grant up and putting him on his hip. He adjust the baby’s bowtie one-handed, making sure it’s not too tight, then tickles his belly a little while he’s at it. Grant just giggles and flails one of his little fists. 

“Da,” he says. 

“Da-d.” Toni says. “Dad. Let me hear that final d sound, slugger.”

“He’s just a baby,” Steve says, smiling fondly at her. “You look gorgeous.”

“You say that about every single outfit I put on,” Toni points out, which is true, but beside the point.

“Well, it’s true,” Steve tells her. He’ll admit, though, she looks especially good today.

“Technically, I shouldn’t be wearing white,” she says, taking Grant from him. “Especially after last night.”

Steve blushes, but doesn’t say anything. He watches his girl- soon to be his wife- as she holds his son up above her head with both hands and says, “Give Mommy kisses.” 

Obligingly, Grant makes his kissy face at her and says “Mwah!” 

“Oh, baby,” Toni says and hugs him to her chest. “Don’t drool on Mommy’s dress, now.”

“As cute as this is,” Natasha interrupts from the doorway, “it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding. Also, we’re going to be late. Everyone’s counting on that from Toni, but I was expecting better of you, Captain.”

“Right,” Steve says, taking Grant from Toni’s arms. “We’ll see you in the end of the aisle.”

“Just remember,” Toni says, “I’m the one in white. The one wearing no panties.” 

“What?!” Steve asks. “Really?”

Toni doesn’t answer, just winks and kisses his cheek. “See you in a bit,” she says, then flounces out of the room after Natasha.

That woman, Steve thinks, and shakes his head. 

“You ready, kid?” Steve asks Grant, who just blows raspberries at him. 

Steve hadn’t been sure about having Grant in the ceremony at first, wasn’t sure it was proper, but he’s pretty much been dating Toni for six months now, living with her and fighting on a team of commandos with her for three. Needless to say, he’s pretty much given up on what’s proper. Steve’s just not sure what he’s going to tell people about why their son is in the wedding pictures with them. It’s not that Steve minds for himself, but he doesn’t want his son to have the stigma of being born illegitimate. They’ve come to a compromise, though, Steve and Toni: they’re going to take most of the pictures with Grant, but also a few without him. Those ones without him are the ones they’re going to leak to the tabloids, get it out of the way on their terms, and hopefully people will believe the rumor they’re going to spread that they’ve been married for a few years now and were just on the outs for a while. Then, once everything’s calmed down a bit from that scandal, they’ll bring Grant out and let the public draw the conclusion that they’ve been married since before he was born. That’s why this ceremony, the one they’re having now, is such a small affair, only their close friends and family attending.  
Bucky’s waiting for him at the pulpit, ready to hold Grant while Steve and Toni say their vows. He smiles and nods and Steve nods back, glad his best friend is standing up for him.

Behind Bucky is a newer friend, but a good one. Steve had been skeptical of Dr. Bruce Banner at first, ready to mistrust him or at the very least treat him with caution, afraid his years in captivity had left him vulnerable to emotional manipulation. The man’s mostly withdrawn, but in the past three months he’s been working with Steve’s commando team to help bring down Loki’s empire with his insider knowledge, he’s been surprisingly reliable. Steve thought for sure he’d have some kind of breakdown when Loki managed to escape Fury’s custody, but it’s been over a month and the man has remained strong, even now that they might be closing in on the profiteer again. For the most part, the man is steady and Steve can respect that.

The Wedding March starts and Steve feels his pace quicken. The first person up the aisle, Toni’s first Bride’s Maid, is Pepper Hogan. Steve’s gotten to know her pretty well in the last few months they’ve been living in Toni’s manor together. She’s a sweet gal and runs the company with scary efficiency. Before this whole thing started, Steve never would have thought a woman could do all that, but now, he definitely knows better.

Behind Pepper is Natasha, who makes eyes at Bucky as she takes her spot next to Pepper. They’ve had some type of odd courtship ritual that Steve doesn’t understand going on for a while now, which is pretty funny, actually. For all that Bucky gave Steve crap about falling for such an unconventional lady, Steve thinks there might be another wedding soon for the two of them. Steve’s happy for them, really. Toni might claim that Natasha’s killed three husbands in her life, but he isn’t worried about his pal. Natasha isn’t a nice gal by anyone’s standards, but she’s smart, she’s skilled and most of all, she’s loyal. If there’s love between her and Bucky, well, Steve’s sure as hell not going to stand in the way of that.

The last Bride’s Maid up the aisle is Clem Banner. Of all their teammates, Steve had been most hesitant around her at first. By now, though, he’s heard the stories, heard of the horror of her childhood, and the anguish of her first few years as an adult. In some ways, her story is worse than Natasha’s, though Natasha isn’t nearly as loose-lipped about her own past as Clem, so it’s hard to judge. Steve can’t imagine it, though, can’t even imagine the horror of the things that have happened to Clem. But she’s still so strong, somehow, still able to laugh and smile, kiss her husband and hug her daughter Alexandra. It’s still hard not to look at her sideways sometimes, not to think about the threat she was to Grant at one point, but Steve’s seen the way Clem is with her own kid and knows deep down in his soul that she would never hurt Steve’s child. Plus, well, Toni trusts her. If Toni can, so can Steve, and that’s pretty much all there is to it.

The bride comes last, of course, and Steve’s breath catches. He saw her not twenty minutes ago, but she still takes his breath away. It’s not the lace or the ribbon. It’s not the cut of the dress. It’s not even the poise with which she walks, so graceful compared to Happy’s limp as he walks her down the aisle. It’s not any of those things. It’s not physical. It’s love, he thinks. He’s never been so in love with anyone in his life, not even Annie, though of course, part of Annie will always be in Toni. When he looks at Toni, Steve feels like he’s not alone. She sees him, just like he sees her, and as long as they’re together, they’ll never have to be alone again. That’s love and that’s exactly what she gives him. And maybe he’s not the same man he was before the war, before all of this happened, but with Toni at his side, he’ll always be better for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s. check out Toni's gorgeous wedding dress up there. I assume she was wearing a veil, but that's neither here nor there


End file.
